Is This 40?

“My dad never went to college so it was real important I go.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“So I graduate, I call him up long distance. I say, Dad, now what? He says get a job.”

“Same here.”

“Now I’m 25, make my yearly calls again. I say dad, now what? He says I don’t know. Get married.”

“I can’t get married. I’m a 30 year old boy.”

That scene was floating in my head when I realized I hadn’t really wrote an epilogue for “Fumbling Towards Forty” and instead it just ended with me turning 40 in February. Re-watching it I realize he said he’s a 30 year old boy.

Am I a 40 year old boy?

I turned 40 on the 23rd of February and my birthday party was me inviting a bunch of friends over to my house for drinks. I decided we’d go downtown because I realized we weren’t just experiencing me turning 40 but also only a few weeks removed from the 20th anniversary of me moving to Windsor, Ontario.

I moved here in 2005. Moved away in late 2009. Moved back in early 2010. Been here since.

I thought it would be fun to try to go to spots I used to go to back in the day, at least the ones still open. I guess I went to Phog (currently Phogheads before it finally moves away from the downtown core) and Treehouse (whose website used to have a link that said LEGAL AGE and when you clicked it took you to a page reminding American girls they can legally drink at 19. Actually that might have been Woody’s) where I know I used the ATM machine.

You might notice I’m not saying anything that happened when I went to those places. I, uh, got blacked out drunk. I don’t remember most of the night. Actually, my memory of some of the day is gone too. The party started at like 5PM and I’m spotty on who was there and what happened. I just got absolutely plastered, old school plastering, and woke up in my bed with scrapes on my left hand wondering what the fuck happened.

I checked my phone to see if I sent any embarrassing messages and I haven’t even really heard what happened from anyone. I guess I disappeared at some point and nobody could find me.

Am I 40 year old boy?

My big plan to help change myself this year (aside from the usual promises to go to the gym more and not accomplish it) was I would finally bleach my hair. I have been planning to do it for years and I didn’t do it for a while because my babcia’s vision started going a few years back and I knew if I bleached my hair she would never recognize me.

I felt after a year I was comfortable finally doing it. I like it. I probably should have done it a long time ago but like a lot of irrational fears (or maybe I just have been lucky so far) I thought my hair would fall out and never come back or something. That hasn’t happened. It’s actually been pretty good for doing it myself. Thank you guy on YouTube.

Most people have been complimentary of it and I like it so I’ll definitely keep it for a while. It sucks you can’t just bleach it once and then it… stays bleached, but I’m sure every single person with dark hair that’s bleached has said that. Once a month forever I guess.

So I spent my birthday with friends and eventually family and I’ve bleached my hair. I’ve tried to plan a big trip to New Orleans with some friends who also just turned 40 and hoping all of them go. I’m also hoping Canada and the United States relations don’t get so bad we have to cancel, which is surprisingly feeling like something that could happen with these escalations of trade war.

Am I supposed to be doing more? Should I be doing more? Should I be working towards finding a woman I love, should I be trying to start a family late? My friends had to watch me drunkenly dancing while many of them are far into those parts of their lives.

I’ll be honest. I’ve never really thought about marriage. I’ve never thought about a wedding. Well, I mean I used to joke about how I’d have a wrestling wedding where my best man would hit me with a steel chair, turning on me and taking my bride, and I’d have to get in the ring to fight him and in beating the best man she realizes her mistake and professes her love, and I forgive my friend because I get it she’s beautiful. And then we carry on with the regular wedding.

I’ve thought about that.

Am I a 40… you get it.

But the concept of being married to someone? I’ve felt it for maybe one woman and we weren’t even together that long. Only once. Every other relationship was fleeting and convenient for both of us. I’ve played the Desperado for a long time and when I hear the lyric, “You better let somebody love you before it’s too late” I wonder if that’s the part of my life I’m at.

But the desperado in that song (which the Eagles wrote in their 20s? Really? 20s? Okay) a big part of it is the line about freedom being a prison and not freedom you think. It’s also about letting someone love you and I don’t know if that’s my issue? Maybe it is. I have been picky my entire life. I’ve had a high opinion of myself when it comes to the partners I feel I deserve and honestly if I go through the rest of my life never finding someone I feel matches what I want?

I’m content with that.

I spent a lot of time in my 20s and 30s learning to love myself. Learning to accept who I am. Learning to accept developmental challenges with ADHD and seasonal depression. To the point where I take trips alone and never feel lonely. Where I sleep in a bed alone and don’t feel like I’m missing out.

I never really thought about children beyond hoping I didn’t have one at a time I couldn’t afford one. But having a daughter or son, it’s not that I never wanted one. I just never loved someone enough to bring one into the world I guess. If it happened without planning for it I would have loved the kid to death and made any time I could for them but it didn’t. And I’m fine with that.

And realizing that all these essential steps to life were never a priority for me is likely why I wonder if I’m that 40 year old boy feeling like he isn’t really growing up. I’m only now trying to work towards writing goals and actually use my skills to one day be paid to write instead of have to write between work shifts. I hope at some point this year I can get further with that.

When I look at myself in the mirror and I see the age lines around my eyes I also still see the same face I had in my 30s. The same face I had in my 20s. The same face I had in my teens really. A little rounder due to weight, and now with blonde hair, but I still recognize that guy. I’m still that guy.

So here I am, not even a month into being 40, and I’m already wondering what it all means. Wondering what it all comes down to. And it’s this… at least for now.

I plan to spend my 40s and 50s doing all of the things I wanted to do in my 20s and 30s so once I hit my 60s and 70s? I have no regrets. I don’t want to regret a thing. I don’t want to feel like I wasted my life and I don’t want to feel like I let myself down.

I know my 20s were full of uncertainty (as are most 20 somethings) and my 30s were all about trying to balance my brain’s ADHD. I did that, at least I feel like I got pretty close to it.

This is my story. If I find love in that time? If love is to come? So be it. It just isn’t my goal to be loved like that. I don’t know what the goal exactly is. Which maybe is a problem. I just know I don’t want to regret.

You said it Robo.

I’ve tried to never be content. Now I should be without regret.

Am I a 40 year old boy? Yeah, probably. And one day I’ll be a 70 year old boy. Living in a former mall turned into a senior centre with the old stores converted into arcades and places our feeble minds consider comfort and easy. A movie theatre where nobody is eating pizza. A restaurant with a physical menu. A telephone with a cord. Sounds good to me.

Here’s to being 40.

Photo of cottage cheese and Flavortown sauces at Giant Tiger