Well, another birthday has come and gone. Time slowly passes, creeping toward old age.

Or, at least, that is how a lot of people feel about it. Me, on the other hand…

I guess it is telling that, going into this birthday, I sincerely thought that I was going to turn 38 years old when, in fact, I am only turning 37. It is a good thing my wife caught this little slip-up before my birthday party last Saturday, where we had a trivia quiz and one of the questions was “How old is Jeff going to be?”

But that “little slip-up” is, in my mind, indicative of something more. I don’t feel old. Well, at least mentally I don’t. I mean, sure, I can tell that my body is not as young and spry as it used to be (was it ever really ‘spry’?). And that male-pattern baldness seems to be creeping in a bit faster than I would’ve expected, given that a majority of my elder family members still had some hair when they kicked off.

Either way, to me age just isn’t something I really stress about. So I am getting older. We all are. There is not one person who isn’t getting older, unless they are frozen in carbonite, or dead. Of all the immutable universal facts of existence that bear down on us, aging is one that we really are kind of stuck with. And why bother getting all worried about something you cannot change?

If there was ever one thing I was/am concerned about, it was the late start the missus and I had in breeding future organ donors… I mean, children. When you think about it, I am going to be 55 when our first child turns 18. Although I am probably wrong, in my head that IS old. I can’t imagine myself being any more young and spry then as I am now, and I can entirely imagine myself being much less so. I have a hard time seeing myself as an active father at that age. I mean, I will probably already be in a wheelchair with a colostomy bag hooked up to me. Not that I am stressing about that, but I just feel kind of bummed about what kind of physically active role I will be able to take in our child’s life, you know?

But, one thing is for sure, time sure does start slipping by a lot faster as you get older. Mayhap this is because, when you are young, you are constantly experiencing new and interesting things. Filling your cranial filing cabinet, if you will. But once you get older and are expected to start doing some routine job day-in and day-out, the mind starts blanking out all of the repetitious crap that is in no way stimulating and only remembers the fun stuff you get to do every other weekend, or once a month, if you are lucky. For that reason, you recall less events over the past year, and that makes time seem to go a lot faster. I know that, in my case, I can clearly remember last year’s birthday party just like it was a month or two ago. Wow…

Anyhow, there really isn’t that much else going on with this blog post today. Just thought I would share my thoughts on another year in the barrel, and finally making it to to my 43rd birthday!