When did I get old? ...

(Steve's note: I have been sitting on this post for a while; it took a little time to gel in my mind and more time to make it to my fingers and the keyboard. I'm still not sure I got my words around my concept and then have it expressed coherently, but when you're 40 ... you don't care anymore! Peace!)


... I guess that's not really a question, it's more of a statement.

I came into my office one morning a few months ago to be assaulted by this:

I appreciated the sentiment and the effort by Kathy, my nurse (no, she works for me, not takes care of me ... sheesh!). But ... that particular morning, I was feeling all of my 40 years of living at the same time. I had a whopping sinus headache; I was awakened at 3am by my beeper by a brainless on-call telephone nurse with an idiotic question that could've waited until morning; my morning row was horrible (down on port. the. entire. row.) and I could feel my hamstrings and low back muscles starting to tighten up with each step. And to make it all worse, the caffeine infusion from my 32 oz diet coke was not working.

After my shower today, I got dressed and plopped down into my chair. I adjusted the lumbar support, repositioned my gel pad for the mouse and keyboard and glanced at the "dessert" after my breakfast. Mostly vitamins, but mixed in with my fair share of pharmaceuticals.

Jesus.


I used to look and feel like Steve Guttenberg in Cocoon, but now I was feeling more like Hume Cronyn (or Jessica Tandy! - RIP).



I give advice to people all day long. They usually don't follow it, but that's another story. In order to make an impact, I have to say something that they can remember. It's hard to be original and influential by 4pm on a Friday (hell .. 9am on a Tuesday!) so I do resort to idioms.

Occasionally an adage. A lot of expressions. I've been using some local Minnesota vernacular-isms ("spendy", "that's different") to help me fit in. I'm also a big fan of metaphors. I'll even use a simile in a pinch for those with the protruding brows and knuckle abrasions from walking.

But I try to avoid cliches. Or talking about cliches.

What I really hate ... is being a cliche.

So, instead of participating in the cliche "40 year old guy mid-life crisis" thing, I'm going the other way.

Most guys hit 40 and freak out. They look back at the last 10 years of their life and find that they were stuck in a rut and just going through the motions. Time flew by and they settled into an easy if not necessarily comfortable existence. Then the big 4-0 hits them and they start thinking, "Oh my god, I'm wasting my life ... I never got to (fill in the blank); and if I don't do it now, then I'll die unfulfilled."

Or something like that.

Well, I look back at the last 10 years of my life, and luckily, I don't see that. In fact, I've turned the cliche on it's head.

Since I turned 30, I have started a new career. I was put on the fast-track and after riding that rail for several unfulfilling years, I took myself off that track and have found a nice niche ... for the next few years at least.

I traded in my "newer" model wife for a slightly older but much better, smarter, funnier and prettier model. She's also more dependable and an awesome mother.

My next car will probably be a minivan, not a sports car.

In the last 10 years, I've taken up two new hobbies. One is usually practiced by 50 year old Japanese guys - bonsai. The other is usually practiced by lanky teenagers in college in incredible shape - rowing/sculling.

I can attest that I am neither Japanese or in incredible shape. Or a teenager. I'm certainly never been accused of being lanky.

But, I've enjoyed both immensely and plan on practicing both well into my 80's.

While most guys are thinking about a vasectomy, I'm thinking about fertility and having another kid. I know, too much information. Sorry. Actually, I'm not sorry. Pbbbt!


So ... I'm not trying to sound high and mighty, just telling it as it is. Maybe, because of the retarded social growth caused by medical school and residency, there is a distinct possibility that my midlife crisis will hit when I'm 50. I doubt it, though - I think life will be even more busy as Peter starts sliding into the tweens. Plus, after winning the lottery, Laura and I will be too busy spending his inheritance. We'll be backpacking through the Swiss Alps with some wine and food in the backpack instead of Peter. Or he'll be old enough to carry his own backpack. Now that would be a great mid-life adventure ...