Today is June 1, 2009. That means in nine days, I will have reached a number of years that basically takes young away as one of the adjectives you can apply to me.
When you are thirty-nine, the only young things you can be are a Grandfather, a widower, and a retiree.
Being none of those things…It is safe to say that Play time is over for me.
39 is old for the following: A College Student (check), a Waiter/Bartender (check x2), an expectant Father (check), a newlywed(check, sorta)
Suffice it to say that I am faced with the challenges of my situationally advanced age at every turn.
Up until…yesterday…June 1 has always brought a certain amount of apprehension as I found myself facing another tick on my odometer and a lack of accomplishment.
Yesterday, as I was assembling a bassinette, a task that served as considerable entertainment for my wife, who constantly asked if I was SURE I didn’t want to call 3.2’s * godfather in from the bullpen to assemble it, it hit me. I can look at my age as an asset or a Liability. If I was say…a QUARTERBACK (looks accusingly in the Direction of Hattiesburg, MS) who was 39, I would be hard pressed to find the asset in being an NFL quarterback at age 39 and would contemplate the possibilities of getting on with my life’s work (shout out to Chuck Noll)
But I am not a Quarterback. I am a man. A man just entering the prime of his life (according to his to-do-list) armed with all the wisdom that 14,236 days of life on this planet can give you (assuming you pay attention to the lessons life insists on teaching you). What’s better than that?
Now if I can learn to overcome the impatience that comes with dealing with the inane banality that surrounds the kids I work with and go to school with, I will be all set.
*3.2 refers to son number three (in utero), for those new to the program. My Father Is Inkognegro 1.0, I am Inkognegro 2.0, My sons are, in order of age, Inkognegro 3.0(age 10),3.1(age 7), and 3.2(again, in utero, much to the chagrin of my wife)