Logan’s 42; I’m (not) a New Soul

Hoping I could learn a bit bout what is true and fake

Him: Happy birthday!
Me: Thanks! I can’t believe I’m 8 years from 50.
Him: Nice way to think about it.

I’m 42.

As I say it out loud, and it sounds so strange to me. Don’t feel 42. I’m told that I don’t look (particularly) 42. And yet I am.

There was a time where I was the “new guy” or “the kid.” Those days are long gone.

On April 17, 1973, I was a new soul. Couldn’t do anything on my own, and didn’t know a thing. All I wanted to do was eat and sleep. Which is little changed from now.

But as I slowly started figuring stuff out, stopped being a new soul became an old one.

Have you heard about this odd thing happening where adults are returning to “preschool” to re-live some of their earliest memories?

While I think it’s silly, I get it.

After a certain age, people try to re-live parts of their childhood that remind them what it was like when everything was new.

It’s why I am always reading something, because my childhood was spent studying, so learning something new is the closest thing I have to having that feeling of being a kid again.

It’s part of the reason why I take wrasslin and fencing classes and take things apart all the time – there’s always something new and cool to learn.

Besides, learning new stuff has the added benefit of always having cocktail conversation at the ready:

Me: …the liquor comes from the island of Curaçao; when Spanish sailors went there, they planted sweet Valencia oranges but the soil there transformed them in to these tiny bitter oranges.
Him: Why do you know know that?
Me: I have no idea.

Probably going to take it easy today; go to the gym and roll around like a kid with some friends and then top it off with some rum.

No longer a new soul but I’ll try not to be an old an cynical one for as long as possible.

Location: my apartment
Mood: thoughtful
Music: Finding myself making every possible mistake

Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.