You’re Only Old Once

Last night I stopped in at an old friend’s fortieth birthday party.  He had laid out a big feast and invited a bunch of his friends together for food and fun.  It was also a Toga Party, which I thought was a joke when I first heard, but it was true.  I showed up with my pink hair and a videogame shirt.  Standing out as much as I usually do.


Approaching the party it felt like being a teen again.  The party was held in the backyard of his parent’s place.  The same place we had spent many summers drinking, smoking and goofing around.  I drove there on autopilot, taking the shortcuts down the roads I used to take.  Walking in there were familiar faces I hadn’t seen in two decades.  


Somehow life just happened.  Years had gone by and as much as we all changed, we somehow remained the same.  We shared memories and tales of events and the people we once knew.  We shared what we knew of the lives that weren’t there.  It was a great feeling of friendships and follies that we once had.

In our discussions we came to the realization that we never really grew up.  We are still those young adults, but with more experience behind us.  40 is the new 33.  But even at 33, we never grew up.  

Finding a couple of hours in our busy lives to meet up is challenging.  I wish that I could have stayed longer to catch up, but life has a way of happening.  We all live close by (within about thirty minutes of each other) but will probably struggle to meet up again soon.  If I don’t see them sometime soon, I hope to meet up for another milestone birthday.  Perhaps where we can discuss Fifty being the new Forty.

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