The Big 4-Oh

So at 8:02 a.m. this morning, I turned 40.

I immediately shotguned a can of Ensure and chased some dang kids off my lawn. Then it was nap time.

OK, none of that happened. In fact, nothing happened. As life landmarks go, it passed with no fanfare whatsoever. My first minute at 40 felt a lot like the minutes that proceeded it.

Still, nothing is more appropriate than turning 40 on a Wednesday. After all, I am now in the Wednesday of my life. Just hoping to make it to the weekend.

I can appreciate what comedian and fellow goateed oldster Louis CK says in this clip about turning 40 (WARNING, he uses some naughty words. But we're all adults here. Some of us are now really adult):

In a nutshell. Sympathetic? No. Interesting? Not so much. Old.? Oh yeah.

From a demographic marketing standpoint, I'm no longer terribly desirable. Nobody is designing products especially for me, except, perhaps, pharmaceutical companies. I guess UPS should be delivering my twin outdoor bathtubs any day now.

But it's not so bad. Other than a hint of reflective melancholy, I felt no different.

Then the phone rang.

“Hi, this is Todd Dorman. Maybe you remember me. I'm a 20-year-old college sophomore and I was calling to find out what my future will be like. I hate to bother you. I know you're probably pretty busy being a hotshot foreign correspondent in some war zone ...”

Heh, heh, yeah., well, listen. Life is complicated. It doesn't always go as planned. But, hey, I don't think this is wise. We have the time-space continuum to think about. Don't you have a frat party to go to?

“Sure, but at least tell me what you're doing now. I'm dying to know.”

Well, your hopes of becoming a columnist someday worked out all right

“Cool. Where? New York Times? Washington Post?”

Aww, geez, I'd hate to spoil the surprise for you. Let's just say it's printed daily.

“But you're glad you followed the path you're on?”

You know what? I am.

It hasn't always been fulfilling or lucrative, but it's led me to most of the really interesting moments of my life, to the friends I cherish, to the wife and children I love.

I know there are many who would argue that I made a big mistake tying my fortunes to the tail of this big dinosaur of an industry - just as the Internet meteor arrived - and that I should somehow be embarrassed by my ink-stained obsolescence. But I'm not embarrassed one bit. And I can handle what comes next. Even at my advanced age.

“Wait, dinosaur, obsolete, inter-what?”

Never mind, kid. No worries. I've already said way too much.

"Umm, OK. Goodbye."

Goodbye. Oops. Damn. I should have told him to exercise more.

And actually, I could use that nap.