I turn 40 today. I’m happy about it. The way I see it, is we all either turn 40 or we don’t. It’s sort of like Aaron Eckhart’s character Harvey Dent in The Dark Knight. “You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become 40.”
Here are some things I consumed because I’m thinking about my age, but refuse to admit I’m fixated on it.
The Kominsky Method - a sitcom on Netflix starring Michael Douglas and Alan Arkin that seems to be working very hard to say old people’s lives are not that different from young people’s lives (dating, sex, work, friends), but then looks for any opportunity to make a joke about being old, making it seem like all old people do is talk about being old.
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button - a movie no one liked when it came out, but now that we’re all older now, we seem obsessed with. I’m not looking forward to my body failing me, but I’ll take that over being a child with dementia. That part is heartbreaking. Also and this dovetails into the next one, Tilda Swinton plays a character Benjamin (Brad Pitt) meets when he’s in an old body but only twenty-something, who tried to swim the English Channel and failed in her twenties. At the end of the film, he sees her on TV as she achieved it in her sixties. By total coincidence, I watched this movie after watching Nyad
Nyad - A true story (with possible factual fabrications) about Diana Nyad, the marathon swimmer, who after failing to swim from Florida to Cuba in her twenties, sets out to swim it in her sixties. Jodie Foster is so good in this.
Frasier (both original and reboot) - Frasier is too horny. Then. Now. He’s just very horny and it doesn’t seem like we should be talking about it more, but we should be talking about it more.
In the Line of Fire - Clint Eastwood is an aging Secret Service Agent who dropped the ball protecting Kennedy and now has to protect the current president from a psychotic (as if there is any other kind) John Malkovich. He also is a misogynist who charms Rene Russo’s character.
Steinbeck: A Life in Letters - I’ve read maybe two Steinbeck books, but his letters are a warm reminder of long and interesting and full of connections life can be.
Nas’ Magic 2, King’s Disease III and Magic 3 - Past 50, and the man has released six albums in three years that are his best work to date.
Miss. Lauryn Hill and the Return of The Fugees - 25th Anniversary of The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill at the Kia Forum - Yes, she was an hour late to start. Yes, all her songs were alternative versions. And yes she rapped and sang better than maybe any live performer I’ve seen.
Albert Brooks: Defending My Life - A glorious documentary about a man I had a blind spot for. The clips from his early career made me laugh so hard.
Kurt Vonnegut: Unstuck in Time - Another author I’m only mildly versed in, but who I admire greatly and take immense inspiration from. I found this documentary, shot over twenty five years by Robert Weide (whose tribute to his late wife made the internet rounds a few years ago) touching and sweet.
Sly - The Stallone documentary where Polo plays a far bigger role in his life than I would have guessed. He’s such a weird dude, but he said this thing about before 4o your life is about adding and after it’s about subtracting. I can’t stop thinking about that.
The Upcycled Self - Tariq “Black Thought” Trotter’s memoir. In truth, I just cracked this open, but I’m not sure there’s a rapper I admire more and think has only gotten cooler.
And I’m sure there are other things. But the point is I’ve been thinking about getting older. I gotta say I’m good with it. Seems like there is a lot on the horizon for me. I think my 40s will be better than the decades before. That’s been the case thus far, and I’m only getting better at being me.
I never thought about my life at 40. It’s the first life milestone where there isn’t a plan laid out in front of me. When you’re sixteen, it’s getting a driver’s license. Eighteen - vote and smoke and buy nudie magazines. Graduate high-school, then go to college. Twenty-one, get served at a bar. After college, get a job. Then I went to graduate school, got a teaching job, got on a Harold team, lived alone, and started my own business. Those are relatively typical milestones. And that’s where I stopped. I didn’t dream of owning a house, or getting married, or having kids. And so I haven’t. That’s not say I dreamed of having four cats and still living alone. That was just a happy accident. Something I didn’t see coming. Which will more and more become the norm. Now that I’m on an uncharted path with nothing in front of me that I need to do, I get to be excited about all the unimaginable possibilities. So long as we can hold this planet together.
I hate the heartbreak I’ve endured as time continues to take people from my life. That part fucking sucks, and there’s no getting around it. And there’s no getting around getting older. There will be a time where I’ll wish I was still 40, and I’ll miss people who are with me today. So I’m borrowing, as I have been doing for twenty years, from something Chuck Klosterman said. On a podcast he talked about the pandemic and how sometimes he was so exhausted with the constraints and demand that the quarantine put on him as a person and a parent. And the way he coped with it was to imagine that he was on his death bed and he was given the opportunity to time travel back to when his kids were young and spend time with them again, and that these moments where it’s all he does is that opportunity. He’s back in time with his kids. And so that’s going to be my forties. It’s the granting of the wish my feeble-minded-broken-body-octogenarian-self made.
One more thing before I go. A gift to myself. Before I turned 30, I set out to do all these things I wanted to do that felt like last hurrah type stuff, but the only one I can remember now is that I ordered a $25 milkshake that had a full Twinkie in it. So maybe the actual things were a bust, but I remember the sentiment. It wasn’t a last hurrah. It was the beginning of a step towards self-care. It felt good to see my birthday as an opportunity, not an obstacle. So this year at exactly 11:59pm on November 16th, I put the finishing touches on my first Lapbook.
It’s something I made up. It’s basically a written mixtape. Not in any musical sense, but in the sense that it’s a short cohesive collection of ideas without outside interference. It’s a self-made vehicle for me to say something and share it. It’s also inspired by the late great Nipsey Hussle.
When Nipsey Hussle released his eighth mixtape, Crenshaw, he made it free to download and also released 1000 limited edition first edition CDs for $100. He called the business model “Proud to Pay.” Nipsey’s perspective was to persevere and make your own path. He called his clothing company The Marathon Clothing, because he viewed life as a marathon and on every piece of clothing was the phrase “Run A Lap.”
This is my lap. Book. It’s my first, but hopefully not my last. This one is about my cat Lemon who died earlier this year. I put it together as a pdf that you can download for free here. I also have designed and produced 50 physical copies available to anyone who wants to pay for an annual subscription to my Substack ($50). Everything here will remain free and engaging with what I write is more than I could ever hope for, so please feel no obligation. I just wanted to make my own thing and in the spirit of the name of my newsletter, make some physical media for those interested. I’m still waiting on the physical copies so my guess will be six weeks or just in time for holiday gifts! If you subscribe, I’ll email you and get your address. Ok, thanks for being here with me as I grapple with my age. I hope you’re well and enjoying how old you are. It’s the perfect age isn’t it?