Three Seven

Something about that 7 that I just don’t like… I’m pretty okay with aging, I’m resigned to the fact that it’s the price we pay for getting to live. An unfair price? Probably, but it’s one that’s built into the lease.

Still, that 7 is a sharp and jagged number, it doesn’t feel lucky. I think that that 7 is an angular little signpost that points out the now short slide into 40. And seriously, how the fuck can I be that close to 40? I feel that I’m still walking around with an adolescent mind most of the time. I feel like I’m just getting started.

Some age related things that have, coincidentally enough, come up in conversation with friends that are considerably younger:

For the majority of my high school years, the music I listened to was on cassette – CD’s were brand new. The first CD I ever bought was Echo and The Bunnymen’s self titled.

I remember when John Lennon was shot. I also remember my babysitter hysterically crying when Elvis died.

I saw Return of the Jedi in the theater when it was originally released. Also The Empire Strikes Back. Also Star Wars (the second time I saw it was at a drive in, in the back of an El Camino).

The first computer that I used, in grade school, had a cassette tape drive.

My best friend’s older brother taught me how to Do The Hustle when I was 5 and disco was still quite the rage.

Anyways, another year down and a pledge for striving to hold onto at least a little childishness for the duration.