Six Oh.

I haven't gotten it yet-expenses like rent and utilities payments have priorities but before too long I'm gonna have me a copy of Loudon Wainwright's new release, Older than My Old Man Now. I was this time last year, as well, but now I'm at a round number that feels very much like a wall but I tell myself it's a platform from which I can better see ahead and look back, all at the same time. I am a terrible liar.

6-0. In some states you can still drive that speed and maybe even faster but not in the state I'm in. I'm from the Land of Steady Habits by way of Land Hesse and the swamps of Jersey. I don't feel 60 but, I have no idea what it's supposed to feel like. I was talking to a young person hobbling on crutches because of a right knee injury and he told me the doctors are watching it carefully since "it's the same one I hurt back in 'o8 when I was in seventh grade." Please.

The tragedy of  youth is that it's wasted on the young. When I was his age then, I didn't know anyone my age now. I don't think I even realized people could get this old and now that I have I don't see myself as old. Worn, yes. Beaten and broken, yeah. Old? Dunno.

Maybe you're the same? That guy I see in the mirror every morning must look different to me than to most other people I encounter the rest of the day. People who see that guy hold doors for him and they say 'sir' to him and they offer to help him carry things upstairs or out to the car. Okay, I have a shotgun, but I think there's more than just Al Capone's rule at work here. And no, I don't really.

I should feel something today, right? Except with 7 plus billion of us here on the ant farm I have no idea how many of us are celebrating the same Natal Anniversary. Yankee Stadium? The Super Dome? A small state of our own. I have no clue. Special is a tall order; I'll stick to being different.

Does this happen to you too? People congratulate me on my birthday like it was my idea. Sorry, no. I was oblivious to you (just like now) and to me, if that helps. Was everyone in the delivery room waiting for me to finish putting on my gloves and shirt? 'Will I need my sled?' I shouted before the delivery began. I think not. We all came into this world the way we're all going out. And all those years of possession by our possessions will be mist in a minute and then dust forever. Oh.

Memory must be the first thing to go because it was earlier this week, I swear, when I asked this incredibly beautiful girl to marry me (which she did; I probably should ask for a pony ride, considering my luck). And we have two kids, okay, they are grown-ups now with their own lives and I keep hearing Lennon's wry observation about life and realize the tighter I hold on the faster it slips away.

Through the love and sometimes other descriptives of my family to the kindnesses of randy and random strangers streaming through my life, from Elechester and Dinah Shore on TV to Belford, down the street from Aunt Anne and  Uncle Chief, to Wannamassa, Franklin Township, to Somerset and up to Rhinebeck and Canal Road,  a year on ice in Greenland and then vorwarts to Germany and now the Nutmeg State, it's been quite a ride.

I've had a window seat for it, to include the stuff I wish I hadn't, and I'm glad I remembered to wear trousers with pockets so I had some place to put all the memories and the fun. Thank you Mom and Dad, without whom none of this would be possible (or otherwise) and to Evan, Kelly, Kara, Jill, and Adam who've helped make it memorable (at least to me).

As for you, thanks for being here and sometimes being back there as well. Yeah, the first sixty went pretty fast and I'm sorry for being a poor companion. I will strive to improve and have every intention of doing some of this again tomorrow so if you're not doing anything you could come along and we could do it together. It's never too late to have a happy childhood, but it is later than you think. Trust me on that one.
-bill kenny