Jack Benny stopped counting birthdays at the age of thirty-nine.* The first time I heard that joke, thirty-nine seemed kind of old. Today as I turn thirty-nine for the first time, it doesn’t seem nearly as old as it once did in my younger years.
*Well, at least his carefully crafted comic character persona did.
Looking back on the past thirty-eight years, I can see how amazingly blessed I am. Even just casting my memory back over the past year, it’s been a great one. I got to take a trip to Disney World with my family, married my best friend, completed my third indoor triathlon and half-marathon (actually, ran half a mile longer, but who’s counting?!?), welcomed the arrival of a new niece and much, much more. Oh sure, last year was arguably the worst year in the history of Tennessee athletics but that can only mean that the foundation is in place for my thirty-ninth year to be memorable for good reasons.**
**It wasn’t helped by that pathetic display of basketball I witnessed last evening when the Vols played UGA. I must be a true orange and white fan to endure THAT!
During the year, I read a lot of books, watched a lot of TV and televised sports, saw some movies and listened to some music. As for what is ahead in my thirty-ninth year, I can only say I’m looking forward to what’s in store.
And since forty is the new thirty, I may not be like Jack Benny and actually keep counting my birthdays from this point forward. Or maybe not. Time will tell.