It my birthday tomorrow! I hate being the age I am (currently 46). It doesn't sit at all well with yours truly. And it's not because I'm vain or nuttin'. Nor did I particularly like being young. I like the material creature comforts that early middle age brings. I own my own home; I have plenty of disposable income; I travel a lot. But it's the way that one's generation slowly starts to become marginalised that I can't stand. The cultural spotlight simply ebbs away. The process is imperceptible until its dour work is done. And I'm a late-starter; I was happy to bide my time as a young'un. As a result, I'm fizzing with enthusiasm and ideas, just at the moment when my voice is starting to fall on deaf ears. That's what I object to.
However, all that notwithstanding, I can't help but be a little excited by the event. Firstly or course there will be presents. The missus and I are popping out to our favourite restaurant tomorrow night to celebrate. And, unusually for me, money will start burning a hole in my pocket and I'll feel compelled to splash out on some material frippery or other. I'm minded to buy some musical equipment - a home studio for recording perhaps? Yes, that would be nice.
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