I had a birthday a few days ago. My wife and I got a sitter, and we went out to dinner. I didn't know it, but she had phoned ahead to the restaurant (it's a place we go pretty often, they serve a good roast salmon, and even better desserts) and ordered a small cake for our table, with candles and two good bottles of lambic ale. The waiter brought it out when I tried to ask for the dessert menu. It was cute, and fun.
But my birthday got me thinking. I might be 35, but when I shave, the guy in the mirror is still 25, and I can't quite figure that one out.... sometimes I even wonder where the kids came from (yes, I do know). I had a good time at that birthday dinner, but I just started wondering when my definition of 'fun' started changing...
...Once upon a time, fun meant hopping in the car and driving really fast with a bunch of the guys, maybe passing a joint around, stopping for late-night munchies at Denny's or someplace similar, or hitting a concert at an outdoor amphitheater and drinking beers on the hill while yelling all the lyrics way off key.
...And later, fun was [text removed to keep this blog family friendly].
...And now, fun is playing with the kids in our family room, or in the park down the street, or having a quiet dinner with my wife, or going to a bookstore.
When did my life grow so sedate? And why don't I mind it so much? Sometimes, I get all misty eyed, when I think back to the "good ol' days," but were they really so good? I guess I must have been looking for something... I sure was expending a lot of energy back then. Sometimes I look at my oldest daughter, who looks just like I did at her age, and I'm certain that whatever I was looking for back then found me, instead. It's not a bad thought, just a realization that my youth is behind me.
Life is not sedate, but it's pace does change. And so do its entertainments.
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