thirty-two

luang prabang, laos

today is a day like any other day, except that it happens to be the day that i turn thirty-two years old.

[can i get a little piano, for the background? just a little rolling of the fingers soft and light over the high keys. the tone should be soothing with the slight undertone of an edge. something reflective. yes. just like that. turn up the bass on the vocal]

as i've written before on this forum, there is nothing remarkable or monumental about the age. this morning was no different from any five years ago and likely the same for anything within the next five. society tells me that i should procreate and pay my taxes, and i remain within that lucrative demographic that's easy prey for anything from doritos to oldsmobiles.

[at this point, i'd like to add some cello. let's get some looooooong and broooooooad strokes to accompany the piano. several octaves lower, of course. just take that bow slowly, deeply baaaaaaaack and fooooooooooorth. just like that]

we assign all the landmarks to the formative and final years; the sunrise and sunset. if you're able to find someone who can tolerate you, there's a wedding that can be thrown in for good measure. other than that, it seems like it's the starting gun and the finish line. but if you're truly paying attention, you'll notice that there will be indicators, if not the rewards of the bookend ages. they may not be handing out the medals, but they're the ones cheering you on in word and deed. it's still your own race and it always will be. i guess i'm just saying that i'm far enough out there to gauge how well i'm doing.

[let's get the tenor sax to gently edge its way in there. trailed ever so slightly by the oboe. i want the tenor to take the lead, as it were, but the oboe should be complimenting the sax in particular and the whole ensemble in general. keep up those broad strokes, cellist]

and to be even more specific, i would add that i have a great vantage point on the life in motion. i may not exactly know which direction i might be traveling in, but i know that it's forward. i may not know the destination, but i think i'm on course for a good one. it's step-by-step plodding and i can't say that each moment is necessarily getting better, even though the years clearly are.

[time for the percussion. let's get some soft, padded mallets to gently cascade up a pair of tom-toms to a gentle, rainy cymbal. nothing too sharp. just like each note is an echo of soft, distant thunder]

nobody said it would be easy. life is hard, hard work and trying to live it honestly is even harder. everybody's keeping score and they're not keen on sharing the point spread. you try to take something good and leave something better and not always sure that you're succeeding. you get to the point where you'll just settle for a good night's sleep.

[add the other hand for the lower keys, pianist. everyone: we're changing over to the bridge, lower it an octave]

i've been through the hard times, we all have. i've taken the punches and it's not always felt good, even when you believe in that makes-you-stronger adage. i've hurt and been hurt and felt like the headgear on tyson's sparring partner.

[back up an octave]

but i've gotten back up each time and stood taller. i didn't let the cheap shots distract me, those side swipes that try to pull you back down with the troglodytes. i know where my battle lies and i've stared steely-eyed forward through the rivulets of my own blood in pursuit of what matters.

[come in here, trumpet. blare out like a triumphant bugle with your dun-da-da-da-duuuuun. hold us together, piano]

and it may not be showing up on the scoreboard. i may not be on the cover of time and i certainly haven't discovered some breakthrough microbe. but i can already look back on more than a decade of tenacious, humble pursuit of a good life.

[drums!]

a life that might not be the ideal for the masses, but one that suits me just fine. a life a little less centered on stopping on other's toes and a little more focused on a good walk and whistle. and maybe that's what i should be looking for all along.

[trumpet!]

so i don't know where i'll be when i'm sixty-four. i don't know where the world will be and certainly not my place in it. but i can look back on the past thirty-two and see some good photos, some wonderful people, and already a lifetime of memories from chasing down my own quixotic dreams.

[trumpet!]

and if nothing else,

[stay with us, piano!]

i can say that from myself,

[drums!]

i have already learned the formula

[cowbell!]

for a life well-lived.

[trumpet!]