Sunday

Freshness at Forty


After 40 years, I'm kind of blown away that I am actually 40. On one hand people diss 40 (poor 40, boo-hoo-hoo) like it's some sort of goddamned plague or something. On the other hand, 40 has recently been proclaimed "the new 25." I still feel like I did when I was 17, by the way. Twenty-five is generally pretty crummy though. To even proclaim 40 the new 25 is pathetic. It only means we've, as a culture, dragged our insecurities and immaturity into the prime of our lives. That's just weak.

I am wiser I realize. More people want and trust my opinion on things and I am more often correct with them. And, I am perfectly comfortable with my candor and instincts surrounding said opinions (George W. Bush don't like black people). I am more cautious with some things, but that has much to do with having a child and a wife whom I adore like no one will ever understand. Surprisingly, I am more introspective. This is surprising given my introspective nature. But when necessary I can explore the depths of my psyche and personality and find happy, sincere and peaceful places in a context of a hugely fucked up world. I am more alive yet closer to a naturally occurring death. Death I do not fear.

The snob in me, the intellectually superior Ty, more often keeps his mouth shut and listens more; learning is a motherfucker if you allow it. Often I have nothing to say. Alas, I remain the same snob of old. When I was 18, I thought I knew everything and I was right. Now, at 40, I know a hell of a lot, but realize that what I want to know...the immense volume of the world's accumulated knowledge...is unattainable. That is unfortunate. But, it makes a lot of sense. Que sera.

I wonder if my IQ is still 150, but I'll never re-test.

I am the farthest from any god than I have ever been. I consider all religions to be the cults of human weakness. Politics are hilariously tragic (and cults of human greed). I realize that if given the choice, I probably wouldn't have children at this point. Needless to say, my child is the most important product of my measly life. She "gets it" already because I allow her to get it. We humans will destroy ourselves.

I love the arts. I am sometimes an artist. I surround myself with art and artists. Photography is history. Music is heaven.
Literature is genius. If anyone remembers me after I die, I hope it is for the clues I left behind in terms of snippets of writing, music, sounds, pictures, and seriously dumbfounding goofs I've pulled off (all employment should be considered performance art).

After 40 years, I am still amazed by just about everything. Most things are extraordinarily interesting, If allowed to be interesting. More and more, however, is just annoying. The noise is noisy. People are all that matter. Conversations are so important. Human connection is glorious. Observations are essential. Friendship is amazing. Happiness is possible, believe it or not. Love is fucking great. And, it's perfectly OK to be as miserable as you fucking want to be.

Oh, and most shit is pretty fucking hilarious if you think about it.

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"After 35 years, I'm still amazed by everything. Nothing's entirely dull. Surprises still delight. People still matter and the art/science of conversation, observation, friendship and happiness is not dead."

-Ty Hardaway, 2000