Fifty years ago today, on my 25th
birthday, I walked into my office in the early morning and was greeted by my
secretary with “Good morning, Mike! How does it feel to be a quarter of a
century old?”
Until that cheerful query, I had still considered
myself very young. She ensured that from that birthday on I had a slightly
different perspective.
Today I’m three quarters of a century old,
but I choose to regard myself as having entered late middle age. Possibly very
late middle age. I certainly can’t carouse with the same impunity that I could
when I was 25, but I still recover from the occasional bout of excess
relatively quickly, and despite some health and mobility issues, on the whole I’m
healthier and in better shape than I probably deserve to be.
I appreciate all of the friends and
relatives who are still around and wishing me a happy birthday, and I remember
with fondness those who have left us too early.
Cheers to us all. And here’s to another 50
years or so of adventure.
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