Truly, words to live byWell, here we are. Or more accurately, here I am. Early middle age, or the ultimate answer to Life, the Universe and Everything? I guess I have another 364 days to figure that out.

I do know that, empirically speaking, things are good. Even with another TIFF looming — my 21st as an accredited journalist, which means I have now been covering this thing for exactly half my life — everything’s chugging along.

Relationships are strong, work is solid (amazingly enough, both for this economy and my chosen field), and I’m in fine health except for the thinning hair and my stupid old-man diet. (Don’t ask.)

And, of course, Dexter is making things interesting in his own unique way. Wasn’t really expecting there’d be a new dog in the picture today, but as a decidedly un-great man once said, we’re gonna keep him.

So, yeah. Let’s see what happens next, shall we?

10 thoughts on “42”

  1. That’s it…a towel. And reading glasses. And my arthritis pills. And…shit, middle age starts sucking!

    Happy birthday, and if you figure out what it all means this year…please share with the rest of us.

  2. @Chris, seriously? Catch up on Douglas Adams books and you’ll be caught up. Cheers.

  3. @Dom – I got the Adams reference. I was just trying to be funny about how much more stuff people need to be functional as they start their slide through middle age. It’s truly disconcerting! 🙂

  4. @Chris – Apologies, my head is too full of Gawd-Awful Vogon poetry, these days. In any case, so long, thx for all the fish

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