Happy birthday to me

I was born 41 years ago today.
I'm too old to dream about being a bikini model one day, or an Olympic ice skater or gymnast. I'll never be the youngest astronaut in history or a child prodigy. There are a lot of things I could have been that are now crossed off that list, but nothing that I dreamed of being that I regret crossing off my list.

My vast world of opportunity is considerably more narrow now. I distinctly remember a moment in my childhood when I climbed to the top of our jungle gym. I looked out over the expanse of my world - the neighbor's houses, the woods in the back, the big blue Texas sky, and I thought to myself "I will forever remember this moment". And I have. Whaddayaknow.
I was at the start of my trajectory and I could do anything. The world seemed completely boundless. I remember not only the color of the sky and the hot summer air, but the feeling I had in my stomach that moment. I think I was really understanding at that brief moment that I was starting on a journey that led outside my little hometown and narrow world.

But I'm still happy to be along for the ride. I don't know how I'll feel when I turn 75, or even 50 - I'm not ready for that. For now, though, 41 is still somewhere in the gray zone between living with possibility and living with limitations. My parents seem totally happy with where they are, so I suspect life will continue to work its magic on me.

And as they say, another birthday is definitely better than the alternative.

I just got a comically biased survey via phonecall concerning a proposed proffer tax in the county. After I gave the answers I knew they were not looking for, the caller identified herself as with the local Realtor's Association. Ha. Me, the curmudgeon.