&%$*ing Forty

One caveat: the language in the video I've linked in the title of this post is somewhat strong. When there are kids present, John sings it as "Truckin' Forty". It definitely loses something in translation.

I've been trying to rationalize why I haven't blogged since April 29th, coincidentally the day before my 40th birthday. There were all sorts of plans along the way: I was tempted to blog about the "Wizard of Oz" presentation put on by the middle school recently (working title: "Oh My"...);and on May 4th I was tempted to blog about my favorite band of all time, Too Much Joy (start with their Wikipedia page and if you aren't charmed by the tales of being sued by Bozo the Clown or arrested in Florida for performing 2Live Crew's "As Nasty as They Wanna Be" you have no sense of humor) because it was the first anniversary of their lone reunion concert. Yeah, it's a little bit of thin solace to grasp onto...

I was also considering writing a post composed entirely of run-on sentences, but then realized that happens EVERY time.

But it really has become apparent that I was just waiting until I was ready to blog about being forty. It's kind of funny, because I've never been that hung up on chronological age. Or at least I thought I wasn't. My sideburns started going gray about ten years ago, so that didn't exactly sneak up on me. I haven't had any inexplicable urge to purchase a hot sports car. This is as close to that as I've come, and my reasoning is that if I'm ever going to ride across country it would be best not to have a seat shaped like a 2x4 wedged into uncomfortable places.

I did, however, look in the mirror about a week before my birthday and notice some wrinkles I'd never noticed. There are a couple by the corners of my eyes, crow's feet, and a new one around my mouth. Happily, they all seem to be smile-related. That's always been my consolation about my wrinkles: they are in all the areas that come from smiling, so I figure things must be good.

These new wrinkles made me think about people who rely on their youth and vigor for their livelihoods: news came out at about the same time I was discovering the new lines on my face, of Scarlett Johansson, who lost a role to Emma Watson because, at the age of 23, she was "too old". There is something wrong with that. I am thankful for being in a professional position where forty is not "old", and it's not "green". It's an age that commands some respect, even when I might not have earned it, yet I'm not so old that I have to worry about buying Depends just yet.

There are still plenty of professional athletes older than I am (though it's becoming abundantly clear that many of them are extending their youths artificially). And if you listen to the song linked in the title of this post, you'll realize that 40 is a relatively young rock star. And then there's the line:
"I guess I'm f-ing forty, but I'm better off than some--
I might be f-ing forty, but you're f-ing forty-one!"

Anyone wanna start a band?