I turn 47 tomorrow. There’s no hiding it: I am well and truly middle-aged, and looking down the barrel of being old.
I’m worried about my future. I feel like I’ve not achieved the things I want to achieve in life, and with a mortgage, a family, and all the responsibilities that come with being a fat, middle-class, hairy man, many of those things are now, realistically, beyond me: I will never fly a fighter jet; I will never be a practicing paleontologist; there’s a very real chance I will never join G-Force.
“Is he… dressed… as a flamingo?”
I’m also worried that my achievements are all in the past. As I’ve aged, and responsibilities have multiplied, I’ve lost space and time for the selfishness that seems to be a requirement of the single-minded pursuit of excellence. It’s not like I come from a family of high achievers, either: I can’t think of single thing of lasting importance that the generations of my family before me have contributed to the world– and my Father’s side of the family has been traced back over 500 years, so you know, I’m not exactly riding the crest of a wave here.
Seriously, this is about as good as it gets.
So, with this uncertainty accounted for, and with a determination to rail against the fortunes of withering capacity, it’s time to take stock and consider five things I’ve done that set me apart from centuries of familial mediocrity, and lay out a set of markers to keep me moving forward into my onrushing dotage.
Five for Friday: 47 Not Out