I turned 40 today. I was born during the “Summer of Love” in 1967. I grew up on Mr. Rogers and Skippy Peanut butter while Scooby Doo was hitting re-runs. I remember seeing hippies on drives through San Francisco, but came of age with Ronald Reagan and the Wall Street boom and bust. I saw the Gipper once, by the way, and he was amazing. I once had a mullet hairstyle. Basically I had big hair like the Flock of Seagulls dude for a period of time, too. I wore argyle sweater vests and checkerboard vans as a teen, pegging the jeans at the ankles. And “The Breakfast Club” really was an important movie…almost as much as “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.” It is surreal to think that Generation X is now turning 40!
I have not done so bad so far. I married the cheerleader, yet never played football and now have two wonderful kids. Life is good at 40. You actually have a enough wisdom to know your faults, but at 40 you actually have enough youth to not forget them yet. That will come in time.
OK. Poke fun at me. Congratulate me. Bring it on! You only turn 40 once.