Flying South to the End of Your Life

I am now officially forty years old. It turned out to be a fabulous birthday weekend filled with friends and family in my favorite place in the whole wide world -- Pittsburgh. I had once planned to celebrate in another of my treasured locales, Las Vegas, but when some invited guests (i.e. My Mother) refuse to board the plane, it can be hard to conveniently get across the country. In the end, it worked out to be one of the best ideas I have ever had, if I do say so myself.

                Kennywood's Potato Patch cheese fries for dinner? Yes, yes, a thousand times -- YES!

The entire weekend proved (unintentionally) to be an endurance test. We did Kennywood, the Pittsburgh Zoo, the Pittsburgh Duck Tour, fireworks on the North Shore, and a Pirates game complete with tailgating on Federal Street. And I managed to drink my fair share of beer in there, too, just to make it more of a challenge. It was magically awesome in every way.

                                                                     Let's Go Bucs!

So now, we are all back to normal. Which, if you know us, means we are on the go in a big, big way for football season -- a different kind of endurance test, mentally and physically, when the teams you follow intend to stress you into an early heart attack each weekend. I am old now, but neither the Mountaineers nor Steelers seem to care for my overall well-being in the slightest. At least for now, the least likely sports contender of all -- the once lowly Pirates -- is proving the most dependable. (No breath shall be held, as we all know how that sort of thinking usually turns out…)

Being forty does not feel too much different than thirty-nine, which seemed similar enough to thirty-eight. But, in aggregate, I guess I do feel older. I know that forty is the new twenty-three or whatever, but I am glad to be out of my twenties. And thirties. This is going to be the decade when I decide what I want, for good, and make it happen. Since I have never really had very many of my own, heart-felt goals, it feels like a good time to begin.

I am determined. To do exactly what, I don't exactly know. But I will do it. Because, even though I half-ass it through life, I usually do so successfully. At the last minute.

And, the last minute is getting closer and closer. No time like the present to finally figure out what you want to do with the rest of your life. If I ever do solve the riddle, I might eventually write about it. In an untimely manner.

Old people can be difficult, you know.