44 Years


I turned 44 today.  How the hell did that happen?

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Viddy of the day:  Dethklok – Birthday Dethday official video ft. Facebones. 

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Hard to be happy about this birthday, gotta be honest with you.  Not because I’m getting old or anything crazy like that, that’s supposed to happen, hard to get worked up about the rising and setting of the sun and all that comes with it when it happens all the time to everyone.

If getting old itself were at this stage a bother, i’d have to wonder about where my head was at.  I have more important things to worry about at 44 than watching my hair slowly go grey, or my body not responding the way it used to.  That it works at all is fine by me, and is all that I ask of it.  Anything beyond that is gravy.

I don’t have a job, old as I am.  That sucks, especially with the economy in the shitter again, makes that a real pain in the ass. Republicans have tried to fix things, and failed.  Democrats have tried to fix things, and failed.  Why? Simple.  The problem isn’t political(the system is broken, and we all broke it), politicians trying to sort it out won’t work, especially not in this current political atmosphere, and the best intentions of politicians working from standard political biases won’t be able to put humpty dumpty together again.

But try they must, because they are asked to, even though the system they are working with is broken, and these people who desperately need to fix the system can’t, because they have to work with their hands tied because the system demands it, as if the system is more important than the people in it.  Which leaves us back at square one, out of work, out of money, and out of luck.

It won’t help create jobs.  Which leaves me stuck with my ass flappin in the breeze, and no way to pull it back in.

Reeeeeeeeeeeal nice feeling, that is.

I’ll keep sending in resumes, nevertheless.  Someone’ll hire me, sooner or later… hopefully not tooooooo much later.  That’d suck.  Wanna land a job before I turn 900.  That’d be nice.

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Nice touches for me, the old bastard, on his birthday.  I got a card from people I worked for earlier this year, just a nice happy birthday card from them.  Running shoes from the wife, and another set of runners from my parents.  Dinner tonight from Goodfellas.  Had my first short run in two weeks today.

And things better left untold.

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Someone once said to me that you don’t count birthday’s, or you ignore them, or sumthin like that, after you turn 40.  I don’t think that’s right, more because I am a kid at heart than anything,  44 going on 7 I am (and I would not have it any other way.)  Hell if I did it different, I might actually get old.  Screw that.

I count them, happily.  Happily do I mark the passage of time, because there are enough good things in it to mark where I can be happy with it’s passage.  And I cannot stop it’s passing, so why not mark it with a smile?  Should I be angry with the sun for setting?  The clouds for passing me by?  Nonsense.    Time is all I have, all that I am, all that I will ever be, and I am glad to exist for the finite time that I have.  It would be true bitterness for me to NOT mark the spending of one of the few commodities that I have a supply of on this earth.

I would share it with the world, give them all of mine, and share in theirs, freely, with joy in my heart, arms wide open.  If an adult cannot share who and what they are like that, they have much to learn, and are not truly yet adults, regardless of age or experience.

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Enough.  G’night, America.

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