You say it's your birthday? It's my birthday, too. Yes, 43 years ago today, the world was blessed with my arrival.
I came into the world on the same day as "Growing Pains" star Kirk Cameron. How is that for sharing your birthday with a famous person? Really, not very many famous people were born on Oct. 12. I'm about fourth on the hit list behind Cameron, actor Hugh Jackman and rapper Young Jeezy.
These days, birthdays are really no big deal-- except on Facebook. Thanks to notifications that Facebook sends out, people flood you with birthday wishes. It's really kind of nice, one of the best things about the social networking site. Sure, it only takes people a few seconds to drop you a note, but at least they took the time out of their day to wish you well on your birthday. I try to reciprocate and wish as many people as possible a happy birthday when they pop up on my news feed.
When you get into middle age -- I guess that's where I am -- birthdays are usually little more than another day on the calendar. Sure, my wife will make me favorite cake (chocolate with chocolate icing) and the kids will get me something useful like a new case to protect my cellphone. It will be a nice time as always.
Today will be a little different because in the first time in forever, I plan on celebrating my birthday with my twin brother. We're going to have a batch of family photos taken to make our mother happy and then go out to dinner. As birthdays go, it will be special. The last time I really celebrated a birthday was when I turned 40. Before that, who knows?
It just seems that as I get older, the years are starting to melt away.
Wasn't I just 30 with a toddler in the house? How in the heck is that kid a freshman in high school now?
Wasn't I just 35 with another toddler in the house? It's getting harder and harder to lift him up and put him in his bed when he decides to sleep in "my spot" before I go to bed at night.
Where have all the years gone?
Maybe it's having kids that make it seem like life is on fast forward. You are so eager to watch them grow and develop that you lose focus on yourself. While they're growing older, so are you. They go from toddlers to teens seemingly overnight.
The next thing you know, your forehead is a sevenhead thanks to male-pattern baldness. That mane of black hair you used to sport is much thinner, with white sprinkled throughout. Your ability to do anything athletic is hampered by the fact that it takes you 24 hours to get over playing a few games of pickup basketball. In the interim between game time and a full recovery, you hobble around like a 90-year-old man.
How can this be happening?
Does the clock ever start to slow down?
Will I be 50 with two nearly grown kids before I know it?
I'm sure time will continue to spin like it is out of control as our boys continue to grow into men. Getting older isn't depressing. It's actually rather rewarding.
Now if I could find some kind of fountain of youth so that I could get my hair and my jump shot back.