34 years today, I sprung forth from my mother\’s womb to unleash my dazzling array of sweater vests on the world. Unfortunately, as the saying goes, \”old age only brings more things to shave.\”
34 isn\’t that old in the grand scheme of life, but it can be said that I\’m now \”middle age.\” I enjoy how we refer to 60 year olds as \”middle age.\” Do you know anyone that\’s 120? Any non-turtles, that is?
Today gives me the chance to think back and reflect on my birth. Knowing the hurt and pain that today\’s world offers, I may have decided to stay in the womb for a more extended period of time. I mean, who is some \”doctor\” to serve me with an eviction notice? On the other hand, I really like waffles, and those are difficult to get in utero. So maybe I made the right decision.
Actually, I got lucky – I narrowly missed being a female by one measly chromosome. There\’s nothing wrong with being a girl, but it would cause problems for me – as I would sit at home all day looking at myself in the mirror without clothes. To hell with a job.
Early in life, there are all sorts of age milestones to look forward to. At 16, you can drive. At 21, you can drink. At 18, you can vote. At 23, you get to see your first naked woman. (Wait…that\’s not the law?) And from what I have learned, at 35 you can legally drive without wearing any pants. So attention Wendy\’s drive-through workers: consider yourself warned. 365 days.
Maybe I shouldn\’t feel so bad about being old. As they say in Hollywood, 34 is now the new 33. Plus, I\’d be the oldest living male in inner city Milwaukee, so there\’s that. And I\’ve managed to father two beautiful children who, in the event of my death, would immediately spend their inheritance on hypnosis to forget that I ever existed.
But let\’s be serious here – my life has passed me by, and I\’m pretty much just running out the clock at this point. I may just quit my job, sit home, and wait to die.