Dr. Dale Moore

Essayist, bloggerist, philosopherist & ramblerist

Well my good Droppings fans I have been remiss of late with my blog posting,  but I have an excuse — I just rolled one of those blankety-blank milestones.  I have always found birthdays fun especially considering that  the alternative to not having one decidedly sucks.  You know turning 30 didn’t register a blip, 40 was actually kinda fun, even 50 was mildly tolerable, but 60? Holy crap, this one just might leave a mark. I was surprised to learn candles are not allowed when you hit this one. Some rule about open flames inside the city limits. So with a heightened sense of awareness, I closed my eyes, made a  wish and blew out the token candle. I opened my eyes, and what the??? Where’s my epiphany?

I guess I was expecting some sort of grand epiphany that would clearly signal something different, but there was nothing — as in zero.  Other than the turning of the calendar page, I really don’t feel older. Considering the hard miles on this chassis, I don’t think I look “it” either.  But even I, the most humble and lovable sumbitch on the planet  realizes beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so whatcha’ see is whatcha’ get cousin.  Aren’t you supposed to at least feel older? Nope, pretty much the same on that score too.  Maybe the answer is too simple. Maybe it is nothing more than the direct result of all the squeaky clean living I have done over the years — right? Please, even I ain’t buying that load of dung.

So what’s the deal here?!?  Where is my darn epiphany?    OK, let’s run the list.  I have managed to clearly cheat the grim reaper out of 2 interviews — that’s cool. I pay my taxes so Uncle Sam has no bone to pick with me. I brush, floss, and get an annual physical. I have 1.5 dogs. I have weird hobby’s and a bizarre taste in tunes (Bill Monroe to Pavarotti).  I recycle.  I eat right — mostly, almost always. I have five grown kids, as far I a know. Got a mess of grand kids.  I don’t smoke, I don’t drink, well you know, not too much.  Oh, and I refuse to take myself seriously — You can pick your jaw up off the floor now.

All in all turning the odometer was pretty much a non-event.  I ate enough carrot cake to make a chubby chick giggle uncontrollably.  I spent some quality time with a lot of great friends talking like pirates and I treated myself to 18 holes of golf  in what was predicted to be record-setting heat.  Breezed through it and still not a single epiphany.  However I do seem to still have a slice from hell that winds up in the next time zone, but then I was doing that 40 years ago so the new milestone did nothing to alter my piece-of-crap golf game.

Screw it. Who has time for an epiphany anyway?

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