Sunday, June 24, 2012
Entering Area 51
Over the weekend I casually completed my 51st trip around the sun.
As if reading my mind, one of my favorite cartoonist posted a strip that perfectly summed up my feelings on being a grown up.
[Obviously, the gender is not significant to the underlying truth of the strip]
Posted by David Bogner on June 24, 2012 | Permalink
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Happy birthday, old guy. From my perspective, you're almost grown. Not quite. But almost.
Posted by: rutimizrachi | Jun 24, 2012 7:45:05 PM
Posted by: Mark | Jun 25, 2012 4:09:37 AM
Happy Birthday! Can you believe it is a year since your Great Trek? Got any adventures planned for your 51st year?
Posted by: Kiwi Noa | Jun 25, 2012 8:38:39 AM
David, first of all -- happy birthday! Mazal tov and many more happy trips around the sun!
Now, I realize you're a guy, and you're talking about your own 51st birthday, but the cartoon you shared put me in mind of the following quote from Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein:
“Anybody can look at a pretty girl and see a pretty girl. An artist can look at a pretty girl and see the old woman she will become. A better artist can look at an old woman and see the pretty girl that she used to be. But a great artist -- a master -- and that is what Auguste Rodin was -- can look at an old woman, protray her exactly as she is...and force the viewer to see the pretty girl she used to be...and more than that, he can make anyone with the sensitivity of an armadillo, or even you, see that this lovely young girl is still alive, not old and ugly at all, but simply prisoned inside her ruined body. He can make you feel the quiet, endless tragedy that there was never a girl born who ever grew older than eighteen in her heart...no matter what the merciless hours have done to her. Look at her, Ben. Growing old doesn't matter to you and me; we were never meant to be admired -- but it does to them.”
Posted by: Rahel | Jun 25, 2012 1:47:58 PM
Posted by: SaraK | Jun 25, 2012 2:43:52 PM
Pops is 80. I am 51. My oldest son is 18, my youngest, 10. I think the age we "are" is that which we look forward to being when we are my youngest son's age, and what we look back to at mine. My oldest son is "getting there." Despite recent advances in brain research (answering the wrong questions, imho) asserting that "we" do not exist, I still demure. Since, after all, science has never proved my existence in the first place.
Here's looking at you, kid.
Posted by: Wry Mouth | Jun 26, 2012 11:37:42 PM