Countdown to 32

Well, where to begin? Today is June 9. Friday. 3 days before I turn 32. Or 65. Again, depending on who you ask or in what frame of mind you catch me in. My big joke is that I am a 65 year old Jew having a nervous breakdown trapped in a ___ year old's body and have been since I was 13 when I had my mid-life crisis and I am now living on borrowed time. Next stop: Chabad House!

Not really funny when you think about it. I was at dinner with my family recently (my parents came to visit) and I made that little joke. My aunt, without missing a beat, chimed in that she was an 18 year old trapped in a 60 year old's body. And, truth be told, she is. At that moment I realized that I had missed a very large part of my life playing "adult" to everyone I have ever known. I was never a teenager and this woman has maintained that state of mind almost her entire life. Now, I don't mean that she is immature or acts like a post-pubescent nihilist. No. She has her moments, but in all she's quite in control of who she is and how she wants to live her life. You have to admire that about her. I don't think I've taken the steps to do so. Why? Don’t know. Actually, that's a lie. I do know, but I don't think I'm going to divulge that here. At least not yet. I can say this though, my world has been one of control. And distance is the best form of control. Cold, a bit. Lonely, at times. But no one's gonna hurt me. Mark my words. No one. That's a lie, it never works.

But back to the point, if there ever was one. 32 in 3 days. My mother and father were both board certified medical doctors by the time they were 30. My brother was working full time with a wife and 2 children by the time he was 30. Any mathematician worth his salt has made a major discovery in his chosen field before he was 30. Hell, Jesus was on his way to be lionized as the king of men by the time he was 30. So what have I accomplished? Good question. But, in the end, it's not about the outward expression of ones life, it's about what he has accomplished for himself. Right? In a perfect world yes. To the repressed middle class that cares about the greenness of their lawns and the annual paycheck with benefits being higher than the neighbors it matter only what one can touch, what one can see. To quote the play I'm in "you are possessed by the tangible, that's your Dybuuk." But this isn't a diatribe on the middle class. Don't worry, that's coming.

3 days to 32. I have no plans. My friends keep asking me what we're going to do. I have no answer. In fact I wouldn't even know where to start with planning. I have some ideas of what I'd like to do, but who really has time to do the things they say they want to do for themselves? I'm pretty sure I'll be working late and rehearsing scenes on my birthday. Hopefully, I'll get a phone call or two from a couple of my friends and call it a day. I don't mean to sound all depressive or weak or pathetic or the lot. In fact I feel none of those. Controlling one's life to be ever-so-slightly-distant-yet-with-the-appearancy-of-being-warm takes a lot of energy. Ok, fine I'm not that, but sounds fun doesn't it.

Well, here's where I sign off for the night wondering a) if this has made any sense, b) if I come across as a pathetic self-hater (which I am not, damn it!) and, most importantly, c) wondering if anyone even reads this. Now off to feed my neglected cats.

Oh, before I go something mildly poignant: My 30 birthday was spent at a friend's bachelor party in a city I didn't know surrounded by people I didn't know. I drank too much and pretty much ruined any chance I'd have to run for public office. For my 31st birthday a dear friend took up a collection from classmates of mine to send me to a city I kinda know to be with a girl I had only met 2 weeks before at a different friend's wedding - we had hit it off immediately and there was a strong connection. So 32? What's in store? Love? Beauty? A new beginning? Fortune? Fame? The whole package? The real thing? I'll keep you posted.