Well, I’m about 54 minutes away from turning 35 years old. I could easily launch myself into another diatribe about life and the seemingly endless amounts of mystery and bewilderment associated with it, but I already did that this week. I could attempt to wax poetic about where I am in my life, but frankly, I’m fresh out of serious.
Tonight, on the cusp of Cinco De Jeffro, I’m simply thinking about 35 as an accomplishment of sorts. In fact, I’m looking at each birthday now not as a time to expect attention, but as a time to kick back and appreciate things small and large. That’s all. I’m not looking at it as a gateway to anything ahead, nor am I being overly reflective about the past, other than wondering what might have been coursing through my young mind in the near 30-year-old picture up there. I look a little surprised. Or guilty.
Who took it? It wasn’t my mother – that’s her standing right behind me (hey! nice pigtails there!). It may have been my dad. I don’t know. Suddenly, I really wish I could remember this day. But I don’t. Hmmmmm. I can only venture a guess as to what I’m doing with a red marker and paper in my left hand. I have no idea what that even is in my right hand. Any ideas?
35. Not bad.
Just for history’s sake, tonight’s playlist:
Simon & Garfunkel – “Homeward Bound”
Tim Easton – “Watching the Lightning”
Guided By Voices – “I Am A Scientist”
The Byrds – “Mr. Tamborine Man”
Drive-By Truckers – “Aftermath USA”
Doug Martsch – “Window”
Nick Drake – “Horn”
That’s it. Glad to be here.