So yeah, I'm now 36. The death spiral towards 40 has officially begun. Before today I could just go "Well, I'm in my mid-30s." I'm still there, but now there's no denying I'm closer to 40 than to 30.
And on the off-chance I could shelter my brain from it, well, that's why I have a wife and friends. They shall make sure I won't forget it. Cathy never hesitates to remind me that she is, in fact, considerably younger than I am.
sigh...Hooking up with a younger woman seemed like such a good idea at the time.
Actually, I shall go easy on Cathy. Chapters and Amazon conspired against her and my birthday gift (The Complete Calvin and Hobbes), barring a small miracle, won't arrive in time. And yes, some might consider that karmic justice because one of her Christmas gifts was late in arriving and she teased me hard over it, but she's so genuinely upset that I don't have the heart to tease her about it.
I've never been particularly fond of birthdays, having long since resigned myself to the fact that I'm not going to particularly enjoy the aging process or getting older. I'm going to be a grumpy old man with a stick. And that's ok, really. Just make sure they keep me off the Open Line shows and I'll be fine. I'd just as soon go "ok, today's my birthday. What's next?" but that's not likely to happen.
Still, I'm fairly happy. I've got an amazing, loving wife. I'm liking the new job so far. I've managed to get this far in my life being pretty healthy and that same luck has extended to most of my family and friends. The world domination thing hasn't happened yet, but I still have time.
One of my fomer editors, Barb of the Packet, will be happy to know that I'm no brighter as I get older. I made the quip about the death spiral to 40 to a pair of my female co-workers who were well past that delicate age. I barely escaped the room alive.
A side note: Myself and Barb went to New Bonaventure when The Shipping News was filming there back in 2001. I happend to see Julianne Moore up close and spent the 75 minute drive back to Clarenville gushing about how hot Moore was and that it was hard to believe she was 40. Said editor has just turned 40 and was seriously annoyed that I had my seat belt on because it meant she couldn't hit the brakes and send me through the windshield. She contemplated beating me to death with the Pentax K-1000 she had next to her, but thought it might break and that would be a waste of a good camera.
Instead, she got her revenge by writing a column about my comments in the next Packet. I was hated by every woman over 35 in Clarenville for about a month.
So I suppose with 40 now in sight, I have to start planning the big blow-out. My father went and bought a camero convertible (which he still has) and then promptly fled the province and hid with his sister in Toronto when he turned 40; If I'm still in Iqaluit, I'm fairly safe from most of the evil family and friends. But I'm not sure if I get the mid-life crisis car that way. And furthermore, what kind of mid-life crisis-mobile should it be?
Decisions, decisions...ah well, I still have four more years to figure it out. Plenty of time...
Currently Playing on iTunes
Avalanche - Matthew Good
9 comments:
Craig happy birthday, 36 wow you are old,:) it seems so long ago since Seamus assigned you to help me with me first story. Hope its a good one but do keep in mind you are now older then every comic book character that you read about!
Hey Craig, Hope you have a wonderful birthday. The way I look at birthdays, its just another day in the process we call life.Although I do have to say you do have some years on me and it'll be a while yet before I'm on the downward spiral to the BIG 40.
Hey Craig,
I think it really hit me when I turned thirty that I was definitively out of my teens and emphatically no longer in my twenties. Being in your thirties puts you in that stereotyped group of career-minded, mortgage-bound, kid-exhausted, mundane things in life. Not that these are really the whole picture, but every TV show or movie written makes this time in your life look vastly unappealing. The portrayal is of all work and no play.
But, hey, here's what I've figured out. Now we have a mortgage, but I can put holes in the wall and not have to worry about a landlord. We have a kid, but she is the reason we can justify taking a day off and doing fun, whacky things and leaving the dishes to rot. We have careers, but they give us money to do the things we love (comic books in your case, photography and backpacking in mine).
As far as I can tell, the main thing one is short on in your thirties is time. Days should have 48 hours each!
So Happy Birthday! You are now entering the best years of your life! Enjoy them. Save your pennies for your mid-life crisis snowmobile. You have at least another fifteen years to save up!
Happy Birthday, Craig. I just turned 37, so I can relate.
(Uh oh. Both January babies. The similiarities are endless!)
Lately I been feeling restless, like maybe I'm missing something. I think it has to do with unresolved dreams but, hey, everyone's got those.
I would have thought that it's really too early but maybe this is my midlife crisis!
To counter these feelings I simply have to go home and look at dear husband and beautiful daughter and lazy cat and realize that lofty pursuits are sometimes not the happiest legacy.
Is it okay to have unfulfilled dreams?
Now Craig, are you *sure* you haven't already gone through a crisis? I'll let you think about that ;)
Happy birthday "old" pal. I'll give you a quick shout this evening if I get the chance, if not I will call you on the weekend.
Many happy returns and try to enjoy the feeling of reaching yet another milestone towards ultimate wisdom ;)
Cheers
Dups
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA you old geezer!!!!
Happy birthday from your MUCH YOUNGER friend.
I think my aunts have a voodoo doll with your name on it.
With that cheery thought, Happy Birthday.
Oh fer heaven's sake, Craig...
36--pffft! Age 35 does the real damage to your psyche--that's when you can no longer check the "25-34" age box on those nasty reply cards and have to lump yourself in with the "35-39"'ers.
For your fortieth, I suggest you run away someplace hot and sunny and spend oodles of cash on some fine meals. Worked for me. Alternatively, if you must have a car, then I suggest a '67 Mustang. Fastback. Like Steve McQueen's in Bullitt.
Have a good one! (BTW, did my postcard arrive yet?)
Oh darn, here I am late off the mark again, what else is new. Happy birthday, Craig - the trick is to enjoy the present, however clichéd that may sound. You are yourself at whatever age you are.
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