50 Days of 50 DAY 49
Well this is it. It’s my actual birthday and an American Holiday, Memorial Day. If you don’t live in the United States of America, Memorial Day was originally called Decoration Day and is a day of remembrance for those who have died in our nation’s service. I could say something droll here and say how fitting that my 50 birthday fell on a day associated with battle, death and remembrance, but I’m 50, I have more respect for those who never had a chance to make it to 50 because they were (hopefully) fighting a good cause for our country. I have just been fighting death by remembering for the good of me.
As the full title of this blog states : 50 Days of 50, One Man’s Sobering Realization That It’s Not The New 40s, I wrote for 50 days leading up to my fiftieth birthday. This whole project was read by many and I’m super thankful about that. You seemed to like it and I’ll give you an encore performance chapter–directly after this one-tomorrow. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m 50 today and it’s only day 49. So when I thought of this blog 50 days before my birthday it was really 49 days so the universe wasn’t really talking to me at all. It was my dumb-ass ego. And, if you haven’t discovered this by now, I am not the guy you give the dinner bill to at a restaurant to divide up who owes what and what the tip is. I’ve had waiters run out to my car and kiss me while my friends look at each other and say, “I knew he f__ked that up. Why do we always let the drunk guy do the bill?”
Why do we always let the drunk guy do the bill? could have been the title of this blog. And as I stated, on day 1, I began this blog with a declaration of not drinking so I could keep up the energy that the extra one to two hours a day doing an extra blog would require. But as my birthmonth kicked in gear and I attended social functions, charities and events after work, and normal daily stress bounced in and out of my life, I caved and took that promise off the table. I now think of my drinking like pensions: you might as well spend as much as you can now because you’ll never know for sure if you’re going to have enough for later…and could die tomorrow anyway.
Which brings me to that point of all of this: What wisdom and brilliance came through me during this blog? NADA. In fact, I feel more tantrumeque and explosive about turning 50 today than I did when I started. I swear if anyone looks at me sideways to day I will stab them. It could be that I have this hideous Quasimodo sty in my left eye so I’m going to have to wear sunglasses where ever I go, night or day, and all week to work. Of course, my co-workers are going to, once again, talk behind my back and call me “Mr. Celebrity,” or “Mr. L.A.,” referring to my I’m too kewl for school attitude I walk around with while I bark my above-and-beyond requests at the assistants and desk managers which is just due to my own personal overscheduling, ineptitude at details, and exhaustion.
Remember “Jon-David’s spiritual laws” that I bestowed upon you? Well, I didn’t just hand them out all in one blog. I humbly scattered them throughout the fifty days so you would not put me on a pedestal once when you realized that I was a transcendent and mystical guy. I wanted you to feel as if you too could reach the divine levels of awareness that I have. You can’t. Why would you aim so low? Well, of those spiritual laws, under the “Reap what your so-what,” or “I know you are, but what am I?” categories, I have ended up at 50 being everything that I thought I would move through: So, I’m still a mess.
Sty in my eye. I’ve gained weight. I worked out less. My allergies are at an all-time high. I’m sunburned from yesterday at the beach which means more sunspots on my face. I’m still bald. My liver did not get the rest it needed. And I’m obviously more physically superficial than when I started which make me a hug hypocrite and, even as I write this, all I can think of is “Just one more paragraph, J-D, and you can have your birthday Bloody Mary.”
And I do care what people think about me. And only in a sick I need more love than most people way. I realize that I’m going to have to write another blog that you will like to get more attention. Only it can’t be about me. I can’t handle another truthy self-flagellating journal where I’m the one who ends up being humiliated. I want to humiliate others. I’m good at it. It’s a gift. And I’m going to use it, God damn it!
I love you all. Happy Birthday to me. I have nothing planned because I made all of my friends scared to do anything for me so I’ll probably just start with the Bloodies and see what happens. Something always happens. Today it will be something to do with being fifty and I don’t have to be happy about that; or sober and present for that either. Fifty is stupid. Agh! There’s what it’s all been about. I knew it would come to me.
If you want to read 50 Days of 50 from the beginning click here.
Tomorrow’s bonus will include a free download of my book, Mafia Hairdresser. But, if you friend me on Facebook through my Mafia Hairdresser page, (look to the right), I will also give you a free download of 50 Days of 50: because of you, I will be publishing that as a book too! I will announce that on the Mafia Hairdresser FB page in a month or two.
Again: Thank you. God Bless. This has really been fun.