Shades of Gray

On July 6 I will become (or will have become, depending upon when I get around to posting this and when you get around to reading this) 43 years old.  I will be sorry to no longer be 42 -- the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything, but it was fun while it lasted. 

These middle-aged birthdays make me reflective.  I really don't mind being in my 40s.  I think it gives me some credibility, and I am old enough now not to give a rat's patootie about what other people think about what I look like, and most other issues, which is liberating.  Also, I hereby apologize to everyone I encountered for every single thing I said or did before the age of 23.  For those of you who knew me back in the dark ages, and for those of you whose impression of me was cemented back then, I beg of you to give me another chance.  Looking back on it, I am humiliated by my behavior in nearly every memory, and I am frankly stunned that anyone who knew me then is still willing to acknowledge me in a public forum. 

I think that's normal.  I was recently talking to a college friend (who knew me then and still speaks to me -- miracle!) about that issue, and we agreed that we didn't really become ourselves until our early to mid twenties.  Before that time, we were more like experimental humans, trying on different personas to see which one fit most comfortably, fighting the ever changing chemicals in our bodies, and trying to make the transition between kid and responsible grownup in the best way we knew how.  I was the Beta version of me, not quite ready for release.

In my line of work, I often see people struggling with the consequences of life-changing decisions made before that age.  Lots of people marry young, have children young, and do stupid young things like get maimed in motorcycle accidents or caught up in drugs or petty crimes.  And don't get me started on the number of tattoos I've seen sporting the name of someone the wearer hasn't spoken to in years or, worse, currently hates.  My feeling on tatttoos is this: if you don't think it would look good on your grandmother or grandfather, don't get it, because odds are good that is what you are going to look like one day.  Each day I look in the mirror and each time I speak to my children I see and hear my mother more and more.  It is only a matter of time before that morphs into my grandmother, I'd imagine.  In fact, I remember the day that, like a flash of lightning, all the crazy, irrational things my mother said or did (or so I thought as a child) made perfect sense to me.  I'd never been so frightened in my life.  Anyway,the point is that it often worries me that we don't get a whole life mulligan -- a reboot, a do-over, whatever you want to call it -- in our mid-twenties.

I'm not saying that every child born of very young parents and every young marriage and heck -- every decision -- made before the brain is fully mature is a bad one.  Sometimes people luck into a good decision, or the person they chose to marry at 19 changes in the same way they do.  I'm just saying that the vast majority of no-turning-back decisions made then are regretted in the future.  Which is why I'm glad I did all those stupid things I did when I was young enough for it to be excusable.  I know what else is out there.  I know where my boundaries are because I have tested them.   I cannot tell you how many people I have had in my office who are about my age and have this biological hammer come down on their head that makes them realize "this is all there is and I've never [insert whatever they've always fantasized about trying here.]"   Hence the midlife crisis related divorce/spending spree/reckless behavior/disappearance on the Apalachian Trail syndrome.  I still feel my mid-life crisis brewing, but honestly I think it comes down to a 180 degree career change (after all, I enrolled in law school at the tender age of 20) rather than a destruction of my family (I married when I was 28 and my first child wasn't born until I was 31.) 

It is interesting to look back and see what has changed in all these years and what hasn't.  The same things still make me laugh.  The people I liked the best then are still the people whose company I enjoy the most now, despite the fact that we are all almost unrecognizable from who we were in the 80s.  Rather than sharpen my view of the world, however, age has softened the edges, much like age has softened my vision to the point of needing reading glasses and cataract surgery.  The more people I meet, the more I read and experience, the more I think there are shades of gray in just about everything that can be viewed.  I'm not really sure there is such a thing as absolute black and white, and I distrust the judgment of people who say there is.    There is an exception to every rule, and at least one other side to every story.

 Ah, but here I go, getting all sappy.  I try to keep this blog light and fluffy, and I go out of my way to try to be funny because if I have learned nothing else in the past 43 years, I have learned that life is short and presents you with plenty of opportunities to be sad without even looking for them.  Laughing is my way of conquering the grief and stark reality of a harsh world, and you really have to pay attention to find the funny.  So, indulge an increasingly aging lady a reflective moment on her birthday.  I will return to my regularly scheduled drivel after I've had my cake and milk.