That Guy-Part II

As my death march toward 40 continues I perpetually come upon occassions reminding me of my mortality, frailty and long lost prime of life.

Take this evening for instance.

I was on my treadmill (conjure up the stereotypical image of a middle aged man on such a contraption). After my 'workout' was over, I got off and stumbled to the closet to take off my shoes. Standing in the closet, I lost my balance, fell back and knocked over a box of memorablia. Luckily I grabbed hold of the wall to prevent my complete collapse.

When I stood straight up again, I gazed down to see what exactly I knocked over and clean up the mess I made. Staring back at me was a picture of me...when I was 20 years old. As I was still short of breath and quite convinced I pulled a muscle when I nearly fell, there, mockingly looking back at me was my former self.


Take a look for yourself.

I think it was 1990. Dear God, time is a harsh mistress.

As if that were not enough, the other day I was really excited to find my copy of Van Halen's 1984. I enthusiastically uploaded it to my iTunes. As I was reading the liner notes it dawned on me that it had been 25 years since the album was released. That is a quarter of a century ago! I was a freshman in high school.

Remembering the show Family Ties? You know when we were in junior high and high school. Alex Keaton's parents would talk about Bob Dylan and a much healthier Michael J. Fox would remind them that was 'ancient history'? I'm now that guy. Some of my favorite albums of my youth are now ancient history.

My life has become a sitcom.

A caricature of over-the-hill domestic manhood.

What happened to the young man in that picture?

I'm going to go bury my yearbooks.

Be well.