Patch Blog: Coming of Age?

Okay, they’re just a word and a number.

The word is all about possibility. And what’s wrong with visualizing big-time and seeing some serious fun, success, and fulfillment…or even a USC Trojan BCS Championship…in the future!

The number, clear as I can remember from Good Morning Vietnam!, describes the end of an inning.

Yeah, May 3 is here again. And these days, the Big Day might not get here as suddenly as a speeding bullet but it does seem to arrive even faster than payroll taxes. Anyway, my current week-long B-day fanfare pretty much seals the deal that friends, enemies, relatives, and co-workers alike all totally enjoy seeing other folks put up a big birthday number.

This time, Tres de Mayo lands me at 7-9 Dog Years-old and unlike in 2011, I’ll actually show up for work without a knee brace and with my wallet (gotta be ready just in case I get carded.)

And if I leave out all the stuff I really like eating but my digestive system doesn’t process anymore, stick to decaf/non-fat everything, and keep the plantar fasciitis away (no, I don’t wear orthopedic shoes…yet), I really do still feel like a kid…until I start talkin about Eddie Haskell and “the Beav” while hangin’ out with my self-acclaimed “youthful” TCDC kiddy crew.

But I do have a question: Do the box boys and girls at Pavilion ever ask you guys if you need any help out to the car with a box of Corn Flakes?

And one more thing; there’s a reason I’m not a Dodgers or Lakers honk. I was here before they were! I already have issues with commitment so why would I commit to a bunch of carpetbaggers? I’m a true LA fan and that’s why it’s the homegrown Trojans and Angels for me.

One more question: How do you perform an effective exorcism on a stadium parking lot?

Anyway, like I once shared with my good friend Pete Carroll aka the Old Hypocrite, staying young is all about retaining healthy immaturity for as long as possible and having really oily skin (except when you’re handling those dental power tools.) And I guess that’s why, even now, I feel just like a teenager…and I don’t mean insecure, paranoid, and obnoxious…unless I’m holding a golf club or looking for retail on Las Tunas.

After countless decades, my sage words of wisdom are as follows: If you wanna stay young, keep learning. If you need a real high, retain your child-like curiosity about stuff. If life’s become routine, why not dare to be different, swim upstream, join Clipper Nation, and look and listen for humor? (c’mon, the only real alternatives are tragedy or bruin football, right?)

Hey! What were you expecting from an old Molar Jockey who can still remember the 60s, Maxwell Smart, Soupy Sales, and what he was doing when we landed on the moon? (Watching the Giants beat the Dodgers.)

So I guess that’s it for now. Another day, another big cake disguised as a bonfire. And don’t ask how many; I’ll just lie or act like I didn’t hear you (and no, I don’t wear a hearing aid…yet.)