Yesterday was my birthday and I turned 40. First, a big thank you for the emails, phone calls, well wishes, cards and gifts and to those who helped me celebrate the occasion. The honest truth though is that turning forty sucks. When you're twenty, you know you're young and life is fine. And when you turn thirty, it's a bit of shock and you wonder where all the time has gone but you can still convince yourself you're young and keep going. But when you hit forty, you know you're not young and even though the mind is willing, the body tends to remind you that time has moved on and it protests. Pain shows up in funny places. You can hear it begging for more pampering.
Older people will laugh and say life begins at forty but I don't think so. First, tell me what the first forty years were if life is just beginning now? No, they were quite good really. At least it was good after you're past those teenage years. I think that "life begins at 40" is perpetuated by folks who have kids in their early twenties and enjoy the liberation of their lifestyle at forty when they leave home. But I've got another fifteen odd years to go before that particular liberation! I really don't want to think that life begins at 55. No. Finally, you just have to do the math to figure out that at 40 there are very good odds that you're halfway to kicking the big golden bucket. So life started a long time ago and turning forty sucks. Time for a second childhood then.