It's a funny thing sometimes, this act we call living. I wonder about it a lot. Well, not really a lot, but often enough. Well, often enough for me, anyway.

I'm going to turn 50 in a couple of weeks. Fifty years old. Huh. Holey moley. I've been wondering more about that than I have about living in general lately. That is when I take my time to wonder about things like living in general . This being the busy season and all.

You know, I ALWAYS figured I'd have most things figured out by now. Most people I knew who were about 50 when I was a kid sure seemed to. Of course, when I was a kid anyone over about 18 seemed about 50 (and ancient), so who knows.

While I'm thinking of it, I have been remembering lately my thoughts from when I was around 10. I was confronting the whole issue of aging (in quite a grown up matter, I might add). I had decided the logical way to avoid growing old (and therefore ancient) was to just do the same thing every day.

Pretty simple. Just do the same things, like run around the block, ride your bike, go hiking with the dog (who was, by the way, also going to live forever), and always share your lunch. Come to dinner when mom told you it was time (this is before anyone explained karma to me), and touch your toes, every day. For some reason touching your toes was important. I think it was because of how stiffly I noticed OLD people walked.

The plan worked pretty good for the first couple of days, but then things got in the way.

Things like my buddy got a new lure GUARANTEED to catch all the bass in the river, my sister got a rat for a pet, and my brother started wallpapering his walls with egg cartons to improve the sound of those Bose 901's. Anybody remember Bose 901's?

So now I have A 19-year-old son. Quite frankly, that pretty much blows my sh_t. Seriously.

I wouldn't write sh_t if I weren't serious.

He's trying to figure things out, too. Really, what he hasn't figured out is that he has already figured a lot of things out. I guess when you are young you are both blessed and cursed by what you don't know.

Actually, that holds pretty true as you get older, too.

The funny thing is all the things you thought you had figured out a long time ago don't make sense, and what is actually making sense you haven't figured out yet.

I once read how adopted children had the advantage of not always being told "you got that from the (mother/father/uncle/aunt/mailman/bartender)". They are allowed to be themselves. I don't know, that seems like a double-edged sword. I would love your input on that one.

My son and I have a lot in common. We also have a lot not in common. I think sometimes, the things we don't have in common that he shares with me are some of the most amazing things about being his dad. He expands my horizons. He also picks me up and carries me around the kitchen.

I never picked my dad up and carried him around the kitchen.

So, anyway, I'm about to turn 50 this month. It's what we used to call, back in the days of psychedelics (kids these days seem to prefer crystal meth) a mind-puck. Well, that's not really what we called it, but close enough. Something that causes your head to twist in unnatural ways.

Well, obviously not unnatural ways, but definitely unpracticed. Unnatural would imply that it seldom happens, and I think this happens a lot to parents and we who are soon to turn 50.

We're getting older. My buddy Abraham tells me if he's still vertical it's a good day. In a couple of weeks I turn 50. I'm not sure what I think about all of it, but I'm still vertical and I like that.

Ya'll doing anything that night? Wannna party? Fifty. Huh.