Plastic Knife Cuts

A few days ago, I was grilling burgers on my deck. My neighbor came outside (we live in town-homes so his deck touches mine) and we started chatting for a while. Now, normally this wouldn't be blog-worthy. Big deal, Rob was talking to his neighbor. Who the hell cares right?

Actually, it was a profound experience for me. I found out that Bob (that's his name) recently bought his first home, taught himself to play the drums, started his own business, and took up running again after a long hiatus. What's so special about all that?

He's 52. Exactly twice my age. When this man was my age, I was just being born.

I've always been terrified of growing old and dying. We only get one shot at life and there is only so much that you can learn/do/experience... it gets overwhelming at times. I figure that I need to run and play Ultimate while I'm young because once I hit my early 40s, I won't be able to be active anymore. I try to travel and live a little crazy now, because once I have kids that will have to stop.

But talking to my neighbor left me with hope. Maybe I still have some time left. Maybe life goes on after 40.

NOTE: I apologize to all readers over the age of 40. I'm sure you all lead normal healthy active lives.

Oh, and what's with this blog title? It had nothing to do with the story.

Don't worry, it's not some cryptic metaphor. We got free bagels and coffee at work today, and I cut myself with a plastic knife. That sucker was sharp!