Just Another Day

 

Had yet to master the art of reading when otherwise engaged.

Happy Birthday to me.

Don’t get me wrong.  I don’t expect a flood of congratulatory messages or even expressions of, “Good Lord, you’re still alive!?”  My ego, as big as it is, realizes that not many of you will be inclined to do so. 

After all, there’s a lot going on in the world which is far more important than me.  Like a war in Eastern Europe, a former president facing jail time, and whether a can of Bud Light can automatically change your gender.

In fact, were it not for Facebook notifications, scarce few of you would even take the time to wish me a happy day.  Even though it would only take a few seconds to offer me said “happy day” message.  Would a few seconds kill you?

Joke’s on you, though.  My Facebook account is set up so that my birthday won’t even be displayed.

Or sexual preference.   But, suffice it to say, I don’t drink Bud Light.

I really don’t like to make a fuss over what is, in reality, just another day.

Although, today and tomorrow are Amazon Prime days.  Which I’m sure is just a coincidence.  Still, if you wanted to mail me a gift, you could save some money.

More to the point, I doubt many (or any) of you will take the time to read this entire hideous post all the way through.  If nothing else, most of you will just check in to see what kind of pictures I’ve inserted.  Or you’ll read just enough so that you can leave a comment intended to fool me into thinking that you had read this entire thing.

That’s okay, because that’s exactly what I do.  Except for your posts.  I read them in their entirety.  Swear to God.

So, why am I even writing this (providing you got this far)?   Well, I’ll tell you this.  It’s not because I hope to reap a financial windfall.  Or impart to you some little kernel of wisdom, wrapped deeply inside an entire post of nonsense (that much is sure).

No, I think I’m writing this as some sort of catharsis to blunt the realization that my best days are behind me.  I’m not even middle-aged anymore.  Unless, I was going to live until 130.  Now, that may work for Keith Richards, but not me.  I’ll be spoken of in the past tense long before that.

Face it, to use a golf metaphor, I’m on the 17^th hole of life.  And the 18^th hole is a par 3.

NOTE:  If you don’t understand how devilishly clever that line is, you don’t know golf.  And are probably young enough to think electric cars are cool.

MORE GOLF:  Actually, I love electric vehicles.  As golf carts.

Anyway, I’m probably just going to run my mouth about my birthday until my fingers snap off from exhaustion on my computer.  Like I said, most (or all) of you aren’t even going to read this or, if you do, are waiting to find something upon which to comment.

Sigh…okay, I’ll give you something.  Which was the saddest movie moment for you?  I’ll go first.  Mine was when Spock died in Star Trek II.  Until he came back to life.  Until he died again in Star Trek Beyond.

"The fuck you say!"

Feel free to comment.  If any of you are still here.

Turning 65 (if you’re math smart, you would have figured that out with the “middle-aged” comment) has left me introspective.  It is the last of “milestone” birthdays.  To wit:

2:  I get out of diapers.  To which I'll eventually return.

"No joke."

5:  I started school.  Which only involved crayons and naps the first year.  Those tricky bastards.

13:  I became a teenager.  Zits included, free of charge.

Those.  And an incredible sense of fashion.

16:  Driver’s license.  Also, boners become unpredictable and relentless.

18:  Legal adulthood.  And legal drinking age.

To the generations that followed ours, please accept my sincere apologies.

21:  The real legal adulthood.  Including drinking age (once again, my apologies).

25:  The age when I could get a credit card.  Yes, yes, I realize younger people can do it now.  I really hope that makes up for that drinking thing.

30:  Nothing particularly noteworthy comes to mind, but 30!!??

35:  I could be president.  Meh.

So could he.
BFD

50:  At the time-“My God, I’m FIFTY?????”   Now:  “Fifty?  Fifty would be nice.”

61:  Boners are like common sense in Washington.  Infrequent.

This makes me sad.

62:  I retired and started collecting Social Security.  Yes, early.  Screw it.  Money’s money.

Actually, 67 is the last “milestone” year.  That is the year during which you’re considered to have reached full retirement age.  After that, my choo choo is lurching toward its final destination.

As I look back on my life, I realize that…regrets?  I have a few, but then again too few to mention (apologies to Frank Sinatra.  Whose choo choo has reached its final destination and been taken off the tracks).

My first regret was after my first experience with alcohol (“Tab?  That’s not Tab!”) as a high school junior.  It was embarrassing, so embarrassing that my sister laughed at me, so I won’t go into any detail. Probably no surprise, it involved a girl.

My biggest, totaling my car forty-three years ago, bore something of a silver lining.  As bad as it was, it resulted in my remaining in the Navy.  True, I got out for a bit a few years later, but the Navy made a tremendous  impact on my life.  Considering no one got seriously hurt and my career wasn’t torpedoed (couldn’t say the same nowadays), I’ll chalk that up as an ultimate good.

Although, it was hell for a little bit.

My first marriage?  Well, while it seemed little more than dating on steroids which eventually failed, it could have ended in disaster.  Thank goodness we didn’t reproduce.

My second marriage (yeah, I’m a player) also wound up on the rocks.  However, that could have really been bad.  But, it wasn’t.  If nothing else, it resulted in two of the joys of my life:  my son and daughter.  And, since my ex-wife and I are on friendly speaking terms, that is a regret which really isn’t a regret.

I regret leaving the Navy before I was able to serve two years in the rank to which I was selected.  On the other hand, I really don’t regret it all that much because I would no longer be separated from my kids.  And that was a good thing.

My only regret, which has no positive aspect, was hurting someone who didn’t deserve what she got.  I won’t go into it here, on the off chance that one of my friends, finding themselves impossibly bored,  reads this.  It’s possible, nay likely, they’d figure out who  I’m talking about.  Since this happened a little over five years ago, the hurt is still fresh.  And that’s something I truly regret.

My joys?  Luckily, they outweigh regrets by a long shot.  Since I’m considerate of my audience (both of you), I won’t go into a long spiel about what they are.  In short…

1.        My children.  If the goal is to give the world something which is a little better than yourself, mission accomplished.  I couldn’t be prouder of my little boy and girl (who aren’t so little anymore).

2.       A woman who, despite my dismal marital track record, treats me better than anyone ever has.  For some reason-mental illness?-she wants to be my wife.  For that, I am beyond grateful.  And remember?  Player.

3.       My career.  When all is said and done and the book of my life is being written (written  mostly by me.  See Shag Carpet Books), the chapters on the Navy will be some of the most significant.  After all, without the sea service, I wouldn’t have near the stories I have.

4.       My family.  Beyond the kids, I have a wonderful family.  More than once, I’ve been told how blessed I am that I have a amazing family network.  With the exception of our father, noted crazy person,  my family continues to shape who I am.  My brothers, sister, aunt, and cousins bring me great happiness and comfort.  And amazement that they even talk to me.

Well, I would say that about wraps it up.  You know, now that I have written this, it really was a cathartic exercise.  When I started writing, I was a little depressed at the prospect of becoming eligible for Medicare, with my  erecti brown hair a fond memory.

Little blue pills half off at CVS

After reading a…sort of… brief summary of my life, I realize that I have led a blessed one.  I know that I have a lot to look forward to.  No, not baldness.  But, the peace which comes from relishing family, friends, and the adventures which await.

That, and getting the senior discount at IHOP for, hopefully, decades to come.

 

THANKS TO ALL WHO’VE HELPED ME LIVE A LIFE WORTH LIVING.

 

Happy Birthday to me, indeed.

I have got to finish this book.  It's fascinating.