1/2 A Century

Arriving at ½ a Century has an odd feeling too it; A midway spot on the dial for reflection and a gaze into the crystal ball.

In an age where we are racing feverishly to turn back the clock; it is here where we can take stock, and possibly pull over to the side of the road.

Earthlings have been busy; doctors keep us around little longer, cosmeticians get a constant green light to preserve vanity, gym bunnies whip us into sex dynamos, Feces Book keeps us updated with gossip and advertisers deliver us motivational slogans - “50 is the new 40” and “70 is the new 60” and so on.

There’s something a bit dramatic about half a century, it looks impressive in Roman numerals. But from another view it is unlikely that one will reach a century regardless of an optimistic “100 is the new 80”.

With this in mind a sense a panic comes by way of being tasered – not quite extinguished but put on notice. The “to do list” becomes a charged sensation of urgency. Ok I have got this far fairly unscathed, but look at all the shit I still have left to do or want to do.

Perhaps having a “to do list” is ridiculous. At point of arrival one should note all the positives so far; a loving partner, a wealth of (real) friends, somewhat – normal family, my own set of teeth and good health. It could be vastly different -particularly if you pegged it before the anointed day.

For some 50 means a mid life crisis; however not for Colin Firth who won an Oscar at 50, thus putting off the obligatory purchase of a Harley-Davidson. Lucky for him (if winning an Oscar is all it’s cracked up to be) but perhaps that’s too whimsical an example.

Interestingly “50” in Latin is marked by the letter L. In modern vernacular depending on accomplishments or lack thereof or state of mind, this could mean loser; Or more positively lasting, laughter, love and life.

I was spared the early morning Face Book notification concerning my age this due to the now slim options Mark Suckerberg has afforded us. Have it his way, it would read “No friends but your 50! “

Thanks to him and others, data farms all across the world harbor millions of birthdays 50 or otherwise. Wouldn’t we like to know what’s in his Inbox?

But I was not spared a card from my old boarding school which happens to be the third oldest in the world. The irony wasn’t lost on me, nor the receiving of my AARP credentials in the morning mail, and who said big brother wasn’t looking after U?

So here I am at base camp with no oxygen leaving footprints in the snow, and reaching for new ones up ahead.