65

It's really an arbitrary thing, no less so than, say, a Fiftieth Anniversary. Why is that such a milestone compared to the 49th or the 51st? Be that as it may, here I am turning 65. Technically, at 4:30 this afternoon, the more or less exact time I was born. It was a Friday. The world rejoiced.

65. Intellectually you know (or at least assume) that by the grace of God you'll make it. Then you actually do. 

I indeed feel different this morning, although I'm sure that's psychological. A milestone has been achieved, such as it is. The first hint was my Medicare card coming in the mail at the end of March. Oh, this is actually happening, that 65 thing, I thought, even though my joints and muscles have been proclaiming its approach for a few years now. 

Yet here it really is. I took my walk this morning; I puttered in the old barn. Outwardly things seem the same. But, 65. Might as well embrace it with all the gusto those joints and muscles will allow.

Showing my age

April is about my favorite month. Baseball begins, and the second weekend brings the Masters golf tournament.  Life is good.

Interestingly, although I hardly need another reminder of how old I am, I read earlier this week that among the major sports baseball fans average being 57 years old. The only sport with a higher average fan age is golf at 63.

Here I am at 64 and those are the two sports I watch the most.

And then I gain another year later this month, turning 65 the 22nd. Oh well.

But why let all that get you down? Baseball, golf, and my birthday: all in April. I can't think of a reason not to love the most excellent fourth month of the year. 

The Day Dawns

When I bought a copy of Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, the noted Beatles album from 1967, I found a gem. I especially liked the song When I'm 64, a Paul McCartney tune which is the second track on side two. 64; that was a long time off for a twelve year old.

Not so much now. Today I hit that milestone, fifty some years after first hearing the song. When I get older? I am older. Losing my hair? Oh, yeah. Many years from now? Not anymore.

But I'm living the life. All my years humming that tune, and here we are. Thank you, Lord.