Somewhere along the line I lost year.
It goes like this. My wife asked what I would like for my birthday (1/6 scale Sideshow Collectibles C-3PO with light up eyes, full articulation and bonus com-link!) when my age came up.
“48! Guess you’re an old man now!” she said jokingly.
“48? I’ll be 47.” I replied. Adding a year to my age . . . HILARIOUS!
“No Honey. You’ll be 48. We’re 47 now.“
Wait a minute… was she right? She is three months my junior, so keeping track of each others birthdays has always been easy enough. Additionally, she is much more in touch with these kind of things then I am. Was I really about to hit 48 after thinking for I was rolling up on 47? HOLY HELL! HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?
To be honest, I do not think of myself as forty anything and I stopped keeping track of how old I am after I came home from Iraq.
* NOTE * If you want to gain a real understanding of time and just how slowly it crawls along, spend a year and a half in the desert.
In my head I’m somewhere around 19 or 20. I can throw a baseball from third to first with no problem. I ride my bike for miles and never suffer from the effects of “rubber legs”. I eat all the junk food and never gain a pound. In my head anyway…
Somedays I don’t recognize the person squinting back at me in the bathroom mirror. That certainly isn’t me. That grey haired, angry-looking, reading glasses wearing, bad back and ruined knees person looks more like my Father! Sounds like him too! LOOK AWAY! LOOK AWAY!
I’ve never thought of myself as “mature”. When does that happen? When do you start to feel that way? Are you supposed to wake up on your 48th birthday and say out loud, “I’M MATURE NOW! I”LL BE TAKING MY GERITOL and PRUNE JUICE IN THE SITTING ROOM!” If that’s how it goes, that ain’t happenin’ here.
Aside from riding my bike, my favorite hobby is toy photography. Not landscape, not portrait, not architecture. Not anything that would be considered “regular” or even, “mature”, by grown-ups outside of the toy photography world. Maybe my love of toys, figures, Star Wars and all the rest can be attributed to my unconscious refusal to grow up all the way. Perhaps the drive behind trying to take the best photos of toys that I can, comes from that lack of feeling old. I’m not sure.
I am a bit worried that one day OLD will fall on me like the proverbial ton of bricks. Out of no where I’ll prefer to have “supper” around three-thirty, go to bed around eight and wake-up the next morning at four in the morning, ready for a day of going to the pharmacy and telling kids to stay off my lawn. I hope not, but you never know.
In the mean time, I’m gonna go take some pictures . . . of toys.
thank you to everyone that took a moment yesterday on Facebook and Instagram to wish me a happy birthday. I’m truly fortunate to have made so many friends from all over the world
I can relate to this post, not only because I’m a few years older than you but I had to experience 40 twice. Something having to do with being pregnant at 39.
I won’t give you any platitudes like playing with toys keeps you young or you are only as old as you feel or age is only a number. With age comes experience, and hopefully some wisdom and occasionally more money to buy better toys. :D
I do hope you had an awesome birthday Matt! Did your wife get you the C-3PO or your dreams?
Keep on the good work!
I hope you will receive C-3PO and you will make beautiful shots with it! ;)
Happy B-day I’m going for 45 this year and I’m not ‘mature’..I think. But I also see that old man in the mirror. Your post made me smile cos I see myself in a lot of things you wrote.
Have a great weekend
/ Stefan K
Best belated wishes!
Some may say I´m young, others may see me as a rather old man, I don´t know..
To me being mature has always gone hand in hand with responsibility. I´m constantly trying to keep that on a level that is possible for me to handle. And as for the rest…who cares about numbers (of likes? of age?) anyways? Don´t stop doing what you want to! Skaal!