Talkin 'Bout My Generation

A little more than a year and a half ago, I walked into my twentieth high school class reunion. (But before I go on...I have to first give a quick shout out to my fellow classmates of Lyman High School's Class of 1988..."Hey! Hey! How 'Bout Them Hounds!!!" (Insert gratuitous barking noises here)).

While some people look forward to going to their high school reunions others dread even the thought of attending them. I felt compelled to go though...not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I hadn't seen these people in ten years (since the last reunion) and I knew that once I did, I'd be back in my comfort zone. The class I graduated with was a fairly large but fairly close group. There was a camaraderie about our gang that always stood out in my mind. Sure, maybe it was the fact that we were all in the same graduating class and we came from the same high school, but I always thought it was something much more...it was something bigger than that.

As a group we were the perfect sampling of what would come to be known as an emerging demographic in our global society. For the most part, our commonality existed in the fact that we were born at the beginning of a new decade, the 1970's, yet right in the middle of our generation known today as Generation X. Many sources I've looked into seem to be in agreement that the term 'Generation X' came from Canadian author Douglas Coupland's 1991 novel, Generation X: Tales For An Accelerated Culture. However, there is some disagreement on the exact years Generation X encompasses. Most of these same sources indicate that Generation X includes the birth years from at least 1965 to 1980. (Though some do say that Generation X births started as far back as 1960 and ended with births as late as 1982.) In any case, we are known as the generation who followed the baby boomers. There are many books and web sites out there that are written about our generation and they all seem to have their own opinions about us. So I thought it might be nice to give you a brief synopsis of how we are perceived by the rest of the world.

WHO WE ARE

There are quite possibly more than 51 million of us "Gen-Xers" out there. We are considered to be the "13th generation" according to the 1991 book Generations: The History of America's Future, 1584-2069 by William Strauss and Neil Howe. This simply means that we are the 13th generation to be familiar with the flag of the United States (counting back to the peers of Benjamin Franklin). Paul Fussell used the "X" from Generation X in his book, Class: A Guide Through the American Status System, to describe a group of people who want to pull away from class, status and money in society. (Sound familiar??) Okay...so we're rebels. In fact, in 1976 one of the biggest rebels of our generation used the phrase 'Generation X' as the name of his punk rock band until 1981. After that, Billy Idol branched out on his own for a more successful solo career. He quite possibly created the anthem for our generation with his hit song, Rebel Yell, in 1983.

We are the group who grew up in the age of television, Atari 2600s and computers. Then we came of age during the 'me generation' of the 1980s. Many of us became "latchkey" kids because of an increasing divorce rate and our working moms. But ultimately, this led to developing traits of independence, resilience and adaptability that stayed with us long beyond college and into our professional careers.

WHO WE ARE NOT

We tend to dislike authority and rigid work requirements. We don't like step-by-step instructions. We'd rather have feedback and suggestions. We have no expectations of job security. Instead, we tend to be more loyal to our careers than to our employers. We don't like to spend much time talking about things and having meetings. We want to jump in, get the work done and move on to other things. We also don't tend to waste time complaining about our jobs. Instead, we're quick to send our resumes out and accept the best offer we can find at another organization. Early on, we tended to not have much optimism for the future. Our attitudes toward religion tended to be different as well. Though many of us seemed to believe in God or at least "a higher power", others leaned toward being indifferent or hostile toward religion.

IT WAS A TIME WHEN...

We grew up during the end of the Cold War. We experienced the collapses of the Berlin Wall and the Soviet Union during the Reagan and "Bush-41" years. There was the recession of the early 80s followed by the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster of the mid 80s. We are the MTV Generation that experienced and defined new genres of music in our culture. The births of Heavy Metal, Punk Rock, Grunge, Hip Hop, Rap, New Wave and Synth Pop are just some of the genres that exploded onto the scene. We were still grounded in good old Rock 'N Roll and anchored by the artists of our time including: Bruce Springsteen, Genesis, Def Leppard, The Police, Bon Jovi, Michael Jackson, Madonna, R.E.M., Prince and so many many more. They must have done something right because most of their music is still popular today. Our peers were breaking onto the movie scene as well. We had the "Brat Pack" which was a play on the "Rat Pack" that was popular during the 1950s and 1960s. Our group included the likes of Emilio Estevez, Anthony Michael Hall, Rob Lowe, Andrew McCarthy, Demi Moore, Judd Nelson, Molly Ringwald and Ally Sheedy. We discovered ourselves and we grew up during the 1980s.

And now, we're all embracing forty. Some of us have already gotten there. Still many of us will turn forty in the next several years. We've grown by leaps and bounds more than we had during the 1980s though. We've established ourselves in our careers. We've gotten married (although for many...more than once). We've started families. We've embraced the internet and we have pioneered new ways to communicate with each other. We've led the way in creating more of a global society than had ever existed before. That's not too bad for a bunch of misfit rebels who wanted nothing to do with anyone else...or so "they" thought. Maybe we're not so "X" after all. Maybe we're the ones who have stepped up and created amazing change in our world. Certainly, this is not the "Silent Generation" (born between 1925 and 1942 or during the Great Depression and beginning of World War II). Maybe we've always just been misunderstood.

But to that class of more than 400 kids that graduated with me back in 1988 at dear old Lyman High...I say hey, we didn't turn out so bad after all. Now let's all reach out and embrace forty together.

(By the way, if you'd like to relive a small part of the 80's in about three and a half minutes, check out the tongue in cheek music video for 1985 by Bowling for Soup.)

Embracing Forty Means Growing Bolder

Okay. It's time for a shameless plug. I have a friend that I mentioned a few blogs ago who I worked with at a local television station several years ago. He has since gone on to create something I think we should all embrace in our lives sooner or later. Growing Bolder is a content driven social networking web site geared towards those of us pursuing more active lifestyles as we get older. According to Growing Bolder's founder (and my friend) Marc Middleton, "Growing Bolder is the realization that it is never too late. It's the realization that you can always chase your dreams. It's about smashing stereotypes and taking chances. And more than anything else, it's good news". Their tag line, "It's About Attitude", says it all.

Now many of us were raised to believe that you go through life following the traditional course of events that most people before us have gone through. That is, you go to school, you get a decent job, raise a family, retire and finally sail off into the sunset of life as you get older. To those who have believed in such a plan, I ask you to consider this. Imagine the story of your life playing out before you on a DVD. Now imagine the story of your life playing out before you on a DVD with a surprise alternate ending. That is what I believe "growing bolder" can mean. But I don't really think of it as an alternate ending. I like to think of it as a new beginning.

As I find myself embracing forty, I am thinking more and more about what growing bolder means to me. For example, I've recently taken an interest in personal fitness. I've been going to the gym now four times a week for the past couple of months which is something I've never done before. With respect to my career, I currently find myself in a position in which it could go one of three ways...all three of which could result in their own rewards (but more of that in a future blog). And as for my personal life, I'm planning on doing something that many people only dream about doing. My wife and I are going to take that dream honeymoon we promised each other when we got married just 3 1/2 short years ago. (more about that trip in a future blog as well). The point of all of this is to recognize that the decisions I have made (and those that I will continue make) about my life are all a direct result of a specific cognisance. It is an awareness that I choose to make positive decisions based on taking chances that will lead to positive outcomes. These days, I don't find that I am necessarily feeling older, but I that I'm feeling wiser about life. I feel as though there is still much more of a life of opportunity and less likey a life of any kind of stagnance. It is all a part of this mindset of growing bolder.

Growing bolder is an attitude adjustment. It's a state of thought that transcends into a state of action. With respect to all of my friends over at the Growing Bolder web site, I believe that they are providing us an invaluable service. It is a starting point. They provide a place to show us what others have accomplished for themselves. They inspire us to dream big through the video stories they tell. Then they challenge us (and even dare us) to look inside ourselves and find the strength to realize these dreams.



There are many stories that the folks at Growing Bolder will inspire you with as well...just check out their web site at growingbolder.com. I'll be checking in more frequently to see what the gang at GB is up to. And hey...you can check out a video of my friend Marc Middleton describing his idea of Growing Bolder in his own words. Just click here.

Ahhh... Family

George Burns once said, "Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family...in another city."

This past weekend, my wife and I traveled to that city to see some of my family. We headed west towards Tampa to the town of Palm Harbor, Florida. We had planned to visit my mom's side of the family whom we hadn't seen in several months. Originally, we thought we would find ourselves using some of those reward points we earned to stay in a nice little hotel free of charge. But who was I kidding? When you travel to see family...you stay with family.

It was just going to be a short weekend trip...Friday night...Saturday night...then home on Sunday. We had no major plans and we were willing to go with the flow. The weekend was set to become whatever it was destined to be. There were no expectations. We stayed with my aunt (my mom's sister). She had her guest room to offer us since my cousin who lives in Michigan wasn't visiting on this particular weekend. We appreciated and accepted her offer for the two nights we were in town.

I woke up on Saturday morning and headed into the kitchen at around 9:00 to find my aunt working at her computer. She offered me a little coffee and a little breakfast as we started to chat. Before I knew it, my wife and my uncle had both joined the conversation. Soon my grandparents would stop by. My youngest cousin would come by later that afternoon as well. Then my other aunt and uncle, (mom's brother), would join us early that evening. By the time all was said and done, an entire day and night had gone by. We never left the house. But we finally did wrap up that initial conversation at about 1:30 Sunday morning. Yes, Sunday morning. It ended with the same four people it started with...my wife and our hosts. For an entire day all we did was talk...then eat...then talk...then eat...then talk some more. On Sunday, after a late breakfast with my grandparents, we headed home.

Believe it or not I had a fantastic time. The last time I saw everyone, we were only in town for a matter of hours. My grandmother, who just turned 88, had leaned over and asked me, "The next time you come into town Michael, could you maybe stay a little longer?" She always asked me that every time I visited her. Longer could never be enough. Not for her. Not for me. I love these people. I love all of them. Though I haven't been too good about keeping in touch by phone through the years, I have still managed to be in their presence, when I am in their presence. It's about being in the moment...our moment as a family.

But there was a special moment I experienced that weekend on the first night we were there. My wife was in the other room and I was in the bedroom looking around at the pictures of my cousins taken long ago. This picture in particular caught my eye.

Yep. That's me on the left with my sister standing next to me. My brother is standing between my two cousins on the right. I have two more cousins on my mom's side who aren't in this picture but they would have been positioned right between my sister and me as we were arranged according to our ages. You guessed it. I'm the oldest. This motley crew was my posse while I was growing up. Because we only lived two and a half hours away, we had made many trips out to visit when I was younger. We spent time with each other...doing things extended families do. But that's all changed now for the cousins. Everyone is grown up with lives and families of their own. Maybe it was a moment of nostalgia. Maybe it was something in my eye. As I stared at the picture a tear soon formed and slowly rolled down my cheek. I missed the old carefree days of our youth. I have an impeccably vivid memory of my early days. But for anything I might have forgotten about, I have parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles who are all quick to remind me how any given family situation "really" played out. (And I usually always get more than one story.)

Obviously, I'm the first one to turn forty from my generation...and I'm excited about it. I see so much more life in front of me than I have ever seen before. I get a fresh start...a second life...but this time with forty years of experience going into it. Who could ask for anything more? It's a rebirth and I love it. I sometimes wonder how my brother, sister and all of my cousins (including those on my father's side) will handle it when it is their turn to reach that milestone. The idea of blogging about the journey is meant, in part, to inspire them. But there is also a part of me that looks forward to each of them reaching this milestone as well.

The memories of my youth are treasures I will never forget. I wouldn't change anything about them. And if my siblings or cousins wants to know how any given family situation with respect to us as kids "really" played out, all they have to do is ask me.

In the meantime guys...
...last one to forty is a rotten egg.

Sorry, Andi...and happy birthday.

Ooohhhhh...It's Diet AND Exercise!!!

Several years ago, when I worked at a local television station, I was engaged in a conversation with a news anchor friend of mine. As he was preparing to go on the air, with less than 30 seconds until the start of the broadcast, he said to me, "Michael, what if I could tell you the secret to living a long and healthy life?" I said, "Sure, Marc. Please. Enlighten me." He continued, "What if I told you that all you had to do was eat some well balanced meals several times a day and maybe engage in some sort of physical activity that raised your heart rate just a bit?" "Really?" I inquired half sarcastically. "That's it?" "That's it," he said, "Do that and you'll probably live quite well for a really long time." It sounds kind of obvious, doesn't it? But the inside joke to all of this was that we had been doing a special series of live interviews with a particular doctor early in the morning every week for several weeks. Regardless of what the topic of the day was, our early morning guest always ended by telling the viewing audience, "...and don't forget...diet and exercise." That message resonated in our heads to the point we believed that it was the answer to everything.
For example:
"I'm feeling kinda sluggish today. I need more energy."
"Diet and exercise," says that little voice in my head.
"What's in the plan for the new health care bill?"
"Diet and exercise," I hear again.
"What is the meaning of life?"
"Diet and exercise."
"How do you get to Carnegie Hall?"
"Diet and exercise." (okay, I know the real answer to that one, but you get the idea.)

So I've been thinking about this as I move closer and closer to that magical milestone of forty. Why is it that I haven't been able to integrate this mantra into my life? Nothing I eat is really that bad for me. I even start each morning with a full bowl of heavy fiber cereal with soy milk. Once in a very long while I'll even get the itch to hit the gym and work out. (Though truth be told, I haven't had that itch in about 7 years). Then it dawned on me. My problem is that I've always been choosing diet OR exercise. When I have chosen to work out in the past, I wouldn't necesarrily concern myself with eating three well balanced meals per day. I'd even snack a lot too. I would tell myself that it's okay, it all balances out in the end. Or when I've chosen to eat healthy in the past, I've often thought that there is no reason to exercise. I've been eating healthy. I feel fine. And water? Water is in everything. Why would I need to start drinking water by itself? But then came a moment of truth for me. I woke up one morning back in January and felt quite sluggish. I dragged myself into the bathroom that day and looked in the mirror. I was going to turn forty this year and I didn't want to do it looking like this. Something had to be done.

Now I'm pretty good at taking on a new project as long as it's not an open ended deal (much like this blogging project I've started). If there is a beginning and an end game in sight then I can be disciplined enough to follow through all the way to the finish line. If I leave my task open ended though, I'll never do it. I know myself. I won't even start. I wish I had a dollar for every time I said, "Ah! It's a new year. This is the year I'm going to eat right and exercise." I'd probably have enough money for a half a tank of gas by now.

I need a new plan. I'm turning forty. This is a chance at a fresh start. So I decided to do a little experiment. What if I tried both eating healthy AND working out for a finite amount of time? I need something with rules though...something in writing...something I could stick to. Okay...how about this? What if I tried this whole diet and exercise thing from now until my birthday? I can stick to a plan of working out; say maybe four times a week with a break on Wednesdays. I'll come up with a series of exercises. I'll include both cardiovascular and weight lifting. I'll balance it all out so I'm working out all the muscles in my body plus my heart. I'll do it for about an hour each day. I'll even drag my cousin-in-law and mother-in-law with me to work out and ensure that I stay on track. It would be a regimen worth pursuing since 40 will be the age I probably think about seeing my doctor more frequently. Then I'll be ready for my final exam on my birthday which I will call my "Physical at 40". For even more motivation, this May, my wife (of 3 1/2 years) and I will finally take that honeymoon we promised each other when we got married. Wouldn't it be nice if I was in much better shape for that too? Okay...the motivation is there. The plan is there. Now I just have to start.

Here's a secret though. I've already started. I'm currently in the middle of week #6. Things are going well. I'm keeping a little exercise journal on my iPod so I don't leave the gym until I do all of the exercises. I'm eating pretty healthy. Nothing too crazy. I'm snacking less and I've just introduced my secret weapon into the plan this week. I've started drinking a lot more water and a lot less soda and artificially sweetened drinks. I know that water alone should really help improve things. But I need to see results, man! I need to see results! It's slow going, but it's happening. Though I haven't seen the results physically quite yet, I can say that I feel healthier. I feel as though I have more energy. I haven't felt that in about seven years. Another benefit is that for quite some time now I've had a lot of extreme lower back pain. Though the pain is not quite gone, I have a lot less of it. I feel as though I'm strengthening my lower back through exercise while giving it less of a load (the infamous Buddha belly) to carry. It's all good though. It's all working. I can do this. I know I can.

I'm calling this my "E40 Plan" (you guessed it...embracing forty). I've got a big goal set and I'm working hard to achieve it. Ideally, I'd love to lose about 15 pounds by the big day. I'm hoping it's a realistic goal. I'm doing it with diet and exercise alone. I don't want to take any pills or any aids or accelerators of any kind. I think this will be much more satisfying if I can do it with my own will power. Plus I have an even bigger goal in mind. I'm hoping that at the end of this run that I have a routine in place that has become such a part of my daily life that I continue to do it long past my birthday. I'll let you know how it's going from time to time in future blogs. I'll even have to give my old friend Marc a call and tell him I followed that secret he gave me all those years ago. It turns out he was right...not such an ancient chinese secret after all. ;-)

Faith, Fate and Free Will

There are three things in life that I've been pondering since I was old enough to think for myself. My beliefs about these ideas are in part what shapes the way I lead my life today. Although they are very different concepts to most people, I see them as three ideals that complement each other quite well in my life.

I was raised in the Jewish faith. I learned about God at a very young age when I attended religious school. I soon felt that I had developed a relationship with God which was greatly nurtured by my parents in my upbringing. Because of that, my faith in God has never wavered. I have always believed in the higher power and I have always been awed by his creations. However, I have never believed for a moment that he has been controlling my life or the decisions that I've made. For me, God has been "the great spiritual spectator". Whether I've been confronted with tough challenges or have been presented with easy decisions, I know that the choices I've made have more or less been observed and noted by him. Sometimes I have even felt that I've been tested by him as well. I've often asked myself when I reach one of those many forks in the long road of life, "How will this choice affect my future?" and furthermore, "How will he judge the decisions that I've made". Often I think that he's just as concerned with how my decisions affect my fellow man. In any case, my decisions are just that...mine. How I am judged for the decisions I've made will be something I'll have to get back to you on. But many times in life, I believe, decisions are meant to be made about something he presents to us.

With respect to fate, there are those that might think that the only thing we are "fated" to do is to die at the end of our lives. For me, I believe that this is not necessarily the case. Because I believe in God, then I believe there is a plan. I believe that we are put here to learn something about ourselves that we can influence through our own actions before the eyes of God. Fate is defined as something that unavoidably befalls a person or is something that is destined to be. I would suggest that even if this is the case, the way we get to that destination is still through the means of our own actions. Here is a perfect example. Prior to the point in life when I met my wife, there were three opportunities in which we could have met. The first was in college. She was there first and I soon followed. We had both gone through the same program and had the same classes that were taught by the same professors. However, because of our actions, or our inactions, we missed each other. A few years later, (as fate would have it), we were both in attendance at the same concert. (Because I'll get asked this later, I will oblige your curiosity now and tell you that it was an Aerosmith concert). It was the same show, in the same city and venue, on the same night. Once again, the opportunity was there...and then gone. The third opportunity was after we had both established ourselves in our careers. We were working at different television stations in the same market. In pursuing a new job, I ventured up the road to the competing television station where she happened to be working. But to fate's dismay, I didn't get the job. So after three missed opportunities, fate had decided to intervene one more time. In a bit of an ironic twist my wife pursued a new job for herself at the television station where I was working. Needless to say she got the job and that was when we met. So to say we were fated to meet is probably an understatement. To say that we were destined to be together might be going a bit too far. I believe that fate presented us with the choice, but it was of our own free will that brought us together.

Free will, on the other hand, is just that. It is nothing tricky nor any big mystery in life. We are all accountable for our own actions. In my opinion, we are defined by what we do...how we treat each other...and the choices we make and act upon. When we were young, it was very easy to blame a sibling and say, "He (or she) made me do it". As we get older, we know better. We try and make better decisions and hope that what we decide brings peace in our hearts and to those around us. Sometimes though, that's not always the case. But the ability to think for ourselves enables the ability to control ourselves. By the same standards, we also find that we can either benefit or be hurt by someone else's free will. It's kind of scary knowing that you can be influenced in some way by the free will of any one of the nearly 7 billion other people out there. That's a whole lot of free will. But let's not focus on all of them, let's just worry about those around us and ourselves. "Free" is a word we take for granted. Let's be grateful we have it and let's be responsible with what comes of it.

So what does any of this have to do with embracing forty? For the most part, it has been a thought process that has worked for me so far and one that I plan to continue into my next forty years. How will this shape my future? I would like to believe that my faith in God combined with faith in myself will lead me to make good decisions of my own free will about the situations that fate may present. If I can do that, it will ultimately lead me to a happier place in life.

And So It Begins...

I don’t feel 40. Not even close, actually.

At least I didn’t until February 22, 2010. That is a date that will live in infamy for me. I did something that day that many would just shrug off. Some might even say, “I think you’re losing it, Mike.” Maybe I am. I did something that day that I once told myself I would never do. I COULD NEVER do. I’ve even mocked those who have done it before me. This doesn’t happen to me. I always pay attention to what I’m doing. I check to be sure, and then I double check. I have a finely tuned radar built right into my head. My every move is very carefully thought out, that is, until this one single day…when I slipped up. For one solitary moment, I lost my concentration…and as a result…I’m sorry to say that I did something I can’t take back. Yes, it’s true. I washed my cell phone in the washing machine. I just forgot about it. I left it in my pocket. There. I said it. BUT WAIT! I know what you’re thinking. Are you kidding? That’s it??? That’s all you did? Come on…you’ve got to do better than that! But hear me out I tell you. HEAR ME OUT. This is just the beginning. It only starts by taking your cell phone for a spin in the washing machine. Today it’s washing the cell phone…tomorrow it’s forgetting to take my pill. (And no…not the little blue one. Let’s not even begin to think about that. Oh the humanity!)

But really, can’t you see where I’m going with this? My father might say I’m in the beginning stages of what he would call “Old Timers Disease”. He always tells me when he forgets things. (At least he does when he remembers to tell me about them). But when my nieces and nephews ask me years from now…”Uncle Mike, when did you first start feeling old?” I’ll sit back, place my hand to my chin, think long and hard about it, (hoping I can even remember that moment) and then nostalgically tell them….”the day I forgot my phone in my pants…then washed it.” Why? It’s simple really. It was the epiphany I had of accepting the fact that I could be so forgetful. Sure, I’ve been forgetful in the past…just ask my wife. But now I’m admitting it, thereby breaking down the walls of invincibility of my teens, twenties and even my thirties while chalking it up to the fact that maybe I’m actually just getting older.

Yes, it’s true. I did have the cleanest cell phone in the house for a little while. I even used the high efficiency detergent on the normal wash cycle. But let me tell you, when I tried to resuscitate my poor little cell phone, I’m sure I created a site to behold. I gently placed the Wet-Bat (my own term for what they will one day call a waterproof cell phone battery because of people like me) back into the phone, and without even touching the power button I sadly watched as my phone started vibrating hysterically. It displayed a dark grey screen with what looked to be water droplets under the plastic covering on the inside of the phone itself. No, I tell you…it was not the screensaver. It was my pathetic little phone gasping for its final breaths. Nothing could save it now. It was gone.

So what’s next? Do I forget weekly tasks or birthdays of those near and dear? Do I forget to turn the oven off? Do I forget to pay the bills? What will it be? But then I think…Wait! I’m supposed to be embracing forty. These are changes I should welcome. So how do I turn this forgetfulness around and make it sound like a positive? What about, “But I’m pretty sure I paid my taxes, Mr. Taxman.” or “Yes. You can send the bill to my home address. It’s 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, DC.”

All kidding aside though, I know that the true effects of aging are still a long, long way off. I still feel great. I remember much more than I forget. And I’m inquisitive enough to look at my grandparents and my wife’s grandmother (all of whom are in their upper 80s) and ask…”How did you do it?” And I’m sure their answer would be something as wise and as simple as…”just keep breathing”. These three are the people I admire the most. It’s their wisdom I crave and their experiences I continue to learn from.

Meanwhile honey, with respect to my poor little pathetic phone, I have just two questions for you:
(1) Low, medium or high? And (2) Should I use one of those fabric softener sheet thingies?

And you thought I was going to ask you for a new iPhone.

Hello World...

My name is Michael and I'm turning 40.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. That's not going to happen for another 13 weeks...(13 weeks from today to be precise). I know. I know. I know what you might be thinking. 40 you say? Big deal. I remember turning 40 years ago. Or maybe you're thinking...40? Gosh...that's sooooo old. Or perhaps you're even thinking...Whew! I'm glad I'm not the only one having these thoughts about hitting the big 4-0. Whatever the case may be, many of us have either thought about turning 40 or have reflected on what it was like to turn 40 at some point. That being said, I'm here to share with you my own journey towards that magical mystical age.

So why do it? Why spend the next 13 weeks pondering life and blogging about it? My answer is simple...why not? Some consider 40 to be a milestone in life. In fact, you may get to a point in your own life when you begin to quantify your years in tidy neat little multiples of 10. You know, the metric system of life. Maybe you remember turning 20. You felt as though you were invincible as you stood on top of the world. Maybe you remember turning 30. You felt all the anxiety that your youth was coming to an end. But 40? Why be so reflective at 40 when there is still so much life left to live? In practical terms, according to the CDC in 2006, life expectancy in the U.S. was still only 77.7 years. So one could argue that I've already reached the half way point (although I do plan to live much longer than that). Also, let's not forget the metric rule. 40 begins the next set of 10. It introduces a new number at the front which means that the thirties will be gone forever. They will only be available to me from now on as mere memories. But the real reason I'm doing this is because of some inspiration I received a short time ago from one of the most important people in my life.

My wife, Debbie, had what I thought to be a brilliant idea. She told me one day, as she made her own journey towards her big milestone, that she wanted to do something special for her 4oth birthday. Naturally, my thoughts about the occasion ranged from an intimate dinner for two to a special party with family and friends to a weekend trip at the beach or maybe even a weeklong trip in the mountains. Whatever it was going to be, we were going to do it. She just had to tell me what she wanted to do. "You name it," I said. "Anything. Anything at all." But it turned out to be none of those things. Instead, she went on to tell me that she wanted to send letters to the people in her life she felt the closest to. That's what she wanted to do for her 40th birthday. That was it. My first reaction was..."Come again?" She continued by telling me that she didn't want her feelings towards these people to ever go unspoken or unwritten. It was important to her that they knew how she felt. These were the people who helped shape the person she is today and she wanted them to know it. They were family, friends, relatives and even colleagues of hers. So she did it. She went on to carefully write her beautiful words for each person on her list. She printed them out against a background of an artistic montage SHE created (that reflected her talents quite well I might add) then sent them off in the mail. It was amazing. And in being a fortunate recipient of one of these golden tickets, I will only say that when it was my turn, Debbie wrote me what I can only describe as the greatest love letter I've ever received. I treasure it and I still keep it on the side of the bed in my nightstand. It's probably the second greatest gift I've ever received from her. The only words I will share with you from that letter though are the words she wrote at the very end. They are the only words that aren't her own. They are the words of someone great who shares her actual birth date. The quote, which you may have heard before, goes something like this: "It's not the years in your life that count...it's the life in your years." said by none other than Abraham Lincoln. (My wife is a big fan of quotes.)

So how the heck do I top that? The simple answer is that I don't. The more complex answer is that if I want to do something to commemorate my 40 years of life, then I need to find my own way to do so. So this was my idea...a 13 week blog with two entries per week leading up to my 40th birthday. Okay...but who am I doing this for? Quite honestly and a little selfishly...I'm doing it for me. After hearing all of the jokes about getting older and turning 40 and how life is going to change even more for me, I decided not to resist it, but to embrace it. I don't claim to be a great writer or someone special who is going through something nobody else has or will. I'm just an ordinary guy writing a blog who wants to document his own journey and share it with anyone who cares. For some of you, this may be the last entry you read because you may find that you think it's cute but you're just not that interested. That is absolutely fine and I bid you adieu. For the rest of you, especially my fellow Generation X-ers (which I believe includes everyone born between 1961 and 1981) I invite you to share this journey with me. You'll laugh a lot. You might even cry a little. Heck, you may even want to forward the link to someone else you know. All I ask is this. Listen with an open mind and I'll write with an open heart. I'm turning 40 and I'd love to share the experience.