Oh, sure. We grow older each day. But I became painfully aware of it last week. I turned 54 Sunday. Fifty-four! It's a scary age because I realize that after more than half a century of living, I've yet to turn out like I had hoped. And it's way too late to begin trying now.
If I was a piece of furniture, I'd be appearing on Antique Roadshow and the host would evaluate me poorly. If I were a car, I'd be a classic, but I wouldn't run all that well. There are the aches and pains I notice now when rolling out of bed that weren't there years ago. When the weather changes and rain approaches, my knees are the first to notice the barometric change. They begin singing operatic arias about 12 hours before precipitation falls.
When you're a kid, time is not relevant. At that age, life seems to be an endless stream of days and nights; one bleeds into another and the procession is not really that noticed. But get older and the days start speeding up. They tend to look like those movie effects where pages of a calendar fly off and signify the speedy passage of time.
Yes. I'm old. Mentally, though, I maintain the maturity of a 13-year-old. I still laugh at fart and poop jokes. Really laugh at them. And therein lies the problem. I maintain the mentality of a child, yet wanted life to turn out a bit better. Maturity is apparently fleeting in my world.
All that to say this year's birthday hit a little bit harder. You can only spin your wheels so long. I'm actually wondering about retirement, and getting senior discounts at local restaurants. It used to be when I'd buy a beer at a store, I'd joke and ask if cashiers needed to see my identity for proof of age. They used to laugh. Now they look at me aghast. “The old guy isn't even funny,” they think.
And, the APBA game factors into aging. A week into my 54th year, I'm juggling playing the 1950 baseball replay and last year's hockey season. Suddenly, time becomes an issue. I have several seasons still to replay — in all four major sports — and I'm wondering if I will live long enough to complete them all. I guess all replayers contemplate that at some point. Can we outlive all of our projects? Mortality is now based upon our ability to finish our games. Life, really, had become a roll of the dice.
It's depressing thinking of the aging process and how things just didn't work out like I had hoped when I was younger. It's kind of a downer and I think I can only be brought out of the funk if someone tells me a poop joke.