Another birthday approaches. That can often mean the sort of deep navel dive that requires oxygen tanks, acetylene torches, and a rescue party on stand by. What have I accomplished? What is left to accomplish? Have I reached my potential? Where did all the years go?
Not gonna do it. (Those readers of a certain age should read that sentence in the voice of Dana Carvey imitating George Bush.)
Instead of self-examination, I’ve decided upon contentment. I’m going to enjoy what I’m doing now and take what pleasure I can from what comes. A radical notion: having a good time.
How, when I have a career, books to write, a family to support, bills to pay, and all the ancillary baggage of middle age? Good question. Let me provide an example.
I’m finally reading The Once and Future King. What the hell has taken me so long? Sure, I’ve seen the animated Disney flick (The Sword in the Stone), but that’s hardly the same thing. What an utter pleasure this book is. There is an almost Wodehousian sense of joy about it, though perhaps with an underlying melancholy that Wodehouse would not, or could not, convey. I’m in no rush to finish this. I’m going to savor it slowly.
What else? Vacation. I’m taking My Beautiful Wife and the Heir Apparent for a beach holiday in Florida for the week of my birthday. Sand, sun, and suds. (And, of course, some writing. The Gulf Coast seems a good place to locate one of Karl Thorson’s escapades.) Why not mark another milestone in a warm and pleasant place? Margaritaville here I come.
So, while the widening gyre creates an ever expanding abyss, I’ll stare in and smile, while I enjoy the ride and sip a cocktail of mixed references.
If you too appreciate joy, rides, and other assorted pleasant things, check out some of my books.