I ain’t as good as I once was

My last post was about the fear of becoming old and lame. After another night on the basketball court, I realize I’m getting old and lame. I don’t run like I used to, and things hurt that I didn’t even know existed. All this and I’m only 24. God bless my next 24 years. Ok, that may be a bit dramatic. After all I’m healthy, losing weight, and well, 16 was a few too many hamburgers ago. I can’t be upset at self-inflicted pain. I am determined to bring youthfulness back to my life. I will get in shape, I will play and have fun, and I will…ok I can’t think of a third something to keep the trend going. Very similar to my basketball abilities, I try really hard and then miss the layup. At least I’m consistent in life.

The hard part of it all is that I was born an adult. I never played with other kids, I always wanted to know what was going on at the adult table. Play in a fort? No, I’m good. The adults are discussing taxes. What kind of 5 year old takes life so seriously? I was robbed I tell ya. So here I am, an adult who has no frame of reference on what being a kid is like, searching for youthfulness. Life is definitely an adventure. I suppose I will embrace the responsibilities and sore muscles of adulthood. Like the great philosopher Jimmy Buffett said, “I’m growing older but not up.” I’ll just have to agree with that statement.

Life’s Travels

Well, there isn’t going to be an update to the Wilmington trip. I suppose nothing eventful really happened. Sorry to disappoint those on the edge of their seat waiting for more details. I didn’t mean to get your hopes up.

I’ve decided to not only write about literal travels, but also the travels of life. The things I think about. Where my mind takes me from time to time. Hopefully it will at least let me write more frequently since I’m not traveling often these days.

My first thought: I don’t want to get old. I’m not talking about physical aging, I’m actually quite comfortable with that. Grey hair and winkles don’t frighten me. What I’m referring to is acting old. While pumping gas recently, I noticed a father, in his early thirties, wearing a horrible outfit. It was a tucked-in t-shirt, cargo shorts, and those Jerusalem cruiser sandals with socks. My first thought was, Lord please don’t let me ever dress like that. I don’t want to lose my youthful view of life. Dressing well, feeling well, and enjoying every moment. I want to opt for the youthful side of life. Instead of a mini-van, go for the crossover or sedan. Or maybe have a carseat in a sports car. A man can dream, right?