I turned 50 years old this morning. A significant mile marker if I don't say so myself. No, and perhaps I don't speak for everyone, we don't like turning 50 years old as humans. Back in the old days (and I mean way back) did they even count the sunrises until the day of birth of say, an ape like being? Did they recognize appropriately every hunched over, long-in-the-tooth, hairy backed attention seeker during, let's call it, the caveman era? Was there an adult cupcake party from Jilly's Cupcakes going on at the cave?--you know, back in the day?
I sit at the computer waiting for my kid to come downstairs so I can dig in to the table of stuff that my wife has gathered for me. I am pretty excited about that. I hope there is a decent pair of pants in there. I need some new pants. I also need some guitar stuff, but I buy that stuff all the time anyway. I am looking forward to playing some music this afternoon with Loran Cavano. That alone makes for a good birthday.
While sitting and writing, my phone alerts me to the multitude of chimes from facebook; yup, there goes another one. I wonder what the equivalent of happy birthday facebook posts would have been back in the caveman days. Perhaps it was a scream, or a grunt, or a toss of a elk leg from across the fire. I am convinced that the duty to recognise the achievement of "getting somewhere in life" is universal and part of our DNA. I am sure of it.
I was telling my kid, and I will likely tell her again, that things were different when I was twenty. Much different. I have put together some (to me) interesting images that will not only describe what it was like each decade back then, but also to give reason, big reason to keep the human race moving forward. Regardless of how significant some of the stuff, I am a little embarrassed to admit that I used to wear a bi-level haircut, a mustache and a little red leather tie, going out to four-fers at the local pub and dancing later. There were no 3:00 bars. Sick.
I suppose it is appropriate to leave off after the 90's, somewhere around the start of cell phones. The turn of the century has yet to be labeled and categorized, and really, who wants to take ownership with the politics and all. Lets leave it up to the twenty year olds. That is awful, I know, perhaps my kid will chime in on this one. Here is to another 50 years, ifyouknowhatimtalkinbout.