So far, so good, I thought, then stretched, twisted and stood before sliding into my pants. I’ve always told myself, when I have to start sitting down to put my pants on, THAT’S when I’ll know I’m getting old. But this morning I realized that wasn’t entirely true: It’ll start long before that, when I can no longer get out from under the dog.
Naturally, the first thing my son asked me this morning is if I felt a year older. I told him I didn’t, but that I was starting to forget little things, like including his name in my will. And I might’ve accidentally worn his underwear while jogging yesterday. Plus, I may have posted a Justin Bieber link to his Facebook instead of his sister’s. But other than those minor memory glitches, I hadn’t noticed any real difference in becoming a year older.
What I didn’t tell him, mostly because he had run off in a panic to check his Facebook and underwear drawer, was one of the reasons I never seem to “feel my age.” When I began blogging three years ago as part of a promise to myself to “become more savvy about the Internets” before my 46th birthday, my intention was merely to establish my own little corner in cyberspace; a place where I could explore my writing beyond the newspaper; a place that would allow me to figure out this whole blogging thing; a place where I could appear to be working without my editor knowing I was goofing off.
I found all of those things, of course, but I also found something I hadn’t anticipated: All of you.
Whenever I push the “post” button, it’s like meeting up with friends. Usually we laugh, but sometimes we don’t. Regardless, there is an acceptance and exchange that always leaves me either smiling, laughing or nodding my head in silent appreciation. Sometimes all three, depending on how much I may have had to drink. You allow me to share parts of myself that stem from the roots of my creativity — a place that many are forced to relinquish along with their youthful perspective.
Because of you, they’ll have to pull my youth from my cold, dead fingers. And if they do pull my finger… well, I think you know what’ll happen.
The fact is, I have no reason to believe I’ll be feeling old anytime soon. At least not until tonight, when someone at my 30th high school reunion shows up wearing parachute pants and has to be escorted home after becoming numb from the waist down.
But hey, thanks to all of you, at least I can say I put them on while standing up.
Truly, my thanks to all of you — Every Single One.
(Ned Hickson is a syndicated columnist with News Media Corporation. His first book, Humor at the Speed of Life, is available from Port Hole Publications, Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble.)
Well, you did it again – you forced me to twirl around another one of your posts while flinging pom-poms left and right. I even threw on one of those short skirts and high socks, given the occasion.
All those wonderful words about your readers right back at ya. You’ve been, and are, a really wonderful blogging friend too. Happy Birthday, Ned,
I so appreciate that, Robyn. I know you don’t throw on a shirt skirt and high socks for just anyone!
Wait — you don’t, right…?
Thanks so much for all your wonderful support and thoughtfulness, but mostly for the writing talent and honesty you share with the rest of the blogosphere, Robyn. With or without pom-poms, you’re a gift.
But the pom-poms are a nice touch, I’m just sayin’… 😉
Holy cow, it’s your birthday and you give me the gift! Kind of welling up a little here, ya big lug. And no, I don’t throw on the short skirt and socks for just anyone – especially because, well, really, I’m only a groupie to one, so….
As if I wasn’t feeling special enough… thank you, Robyn 😉
Happy Birthday, Young Ned! Long may you keep that sense of humor, because I promise you, it is what will preserve your youthful outlook more than anything else. There’s not enough Botox in the world to keep you as young as laughing every day will! Now get busy and celebrate! (PS…I went to my 30th reunion, too…it was rather surprising. Someone had deviously replaced every single student I once knew with some sort of elderly doppelganger! It’s true! I know for sure, because I damn well didn’t attend high school with any of those old farts! 😀 )
Laughter is definitely part of my master plan to remain youthful! BwaHaHaHaHa! *wrings hands together*
By the way, I think some of those same people will probably be showing up at MY reunion tonight! I’ll let you know if it’s a conspiracy 😉
Stick with me, kid, and you’ll always be young(er)…by about 2.5 years. And happy birthday.
I’m pretty sure, based on the metric system in Canada, you’re actually 10.5 years older. (And thanks, my friend 😉 )
Yes, but as Canadian years, they only have a value of 8 US months
I knew there was a catch; you Canadians are crafty.
Comes from living on the thinking end of North America…no offence, Mexico and whatever happens in Florida
Happy Birthday Ned. And Thank You.
Thanks Paul! And it is my extreme pleasure 😉
may your day be filled with sweetness and fond recollections of youthfully tight bodies and the reality of adult bodies and hopefully adult minds…
I’ll take adult bodies with experience over youthfully tight inexperienced bodies any day 😉
Happy Birthday and may you continue to be able to pull your legs out from under the dog.
Thanks, Catherine! Gosh, your birthday wish sounds like a Hallmark card!
Happy Birthday Ned and thanks for such kind words. It’s no surprise that you have a loyal following and I expect that to continue long after you’ve become permanently lodged under the lab.
Have a great day and a very happy birthday!
Psst: I wanna borrow Robin’s pom poms when she’s done 🙂
Thanks so much, Michelle 😉 I’m sure Robyn would be willing to part with her pom-poms if you let her on your riding mower.
Happy birthday! I suppose not many other people at your reunion will be able to brag that they get stuck under a dog every morning, so you’ve got that going for you too.
Thanks!
And the dog will be my ace in the hole just in case dazzling them with armpit-farting the theme to Star Wars doesn’t work.
Happy Birthday! I’m 39 years older than you, so you have a long way to go before you have to sit down or get from under the dog. In my case,it’s a cat,but the struggle is worth it. Enjoy each day to its fullest.
Thank you so much! And I am fortunate to be surrounded by people who always make my day the best it can be 😉
In addition to getting out from under your lab each morning I reckon you’ll be right if you keep sliding down those poles and surviving the occasional face plant. A heartfelt thanks back to you for all the laughs. Many happy, laughy returns of the day.
I truly appreciate that, Jill — Thank You! 😉
Happy Birthday, Ned, you young buck! I hope it’s the bomb. Have fun. Enjoy!
HaHa! Many thanks, Amy!
Happy birthday Dude…and be careful if someone does actually pull your finger, you know the old persons saying about never trust a fart, right?
Just a heads up in case you’re one of the people WordPress has seen fit to no longer have me turn up in your reader or get notifications of new posts…there’s new posts.
Thanks for the heads-up, Red. In fact, it’s true that something went whack-o and you weren’t showing up. The situation has been remedied!
May I ask how you remedied things please Ned and I’ll pass it on. Cheers
I just unfollowed and re-followed. Don’t know if it shows up on your end or not. Also, I don’t know how many tags you use in your posts, but I’ve noticed anything more than 10 seems to keep them from showing up in the WP reader.
Nope, I don’t use tags or categories, I find I avoid odd search terms bringing weirdos around. I’ll pass on your trick. Cheers
Thanks, Red! And I’m sure that old farts, like fine wine, get better with age. Or at least more fragrant.
Haa! Absolutely.
Btw, just in case WordPress have stopped letting you know about my new posts as well (some are having issues) I thought I’d shamelessly promote my last two as your birthday prezzie
I’m on it, Red; and there’s no shame in promoting something that good 😉
Ta mate, it felt a bit self-indulgent I guess. Cheers
Cheers, my friend.
Look–both Frank Gifford and his wine-weary drunk wife, Kathie Lee, have birthdays today and they’re BOTH older than you. And so is Madonna–56. Gross. At least you’re not 56. Timothy Hutton, Steve Carrell, Angela Bassett–all have birthdays today, and they only wish they were still 48. So enjoy your 40s, old firefighting man with good hair.
HaHaaaHaHaaa! I didn’t realize I was in such good company! Not counting the “wine-weary” Giffords…
Happy Birthday!!
Thanks, grannyK!
Happy birthday Ned! Make sure those parachute pants are in the classiest shade of neon that Goodwill has to offer.
Lol! Thanks, Lizi! Puce parachute pants may be hard to find, but I have high hopes that if anyone has them, Goodwill does!
Happy birthday and YOU.ARE.A.BABY, besides … 48 is the new 28, so you’ve got a LOOOONG way to go yet!
eden
xo
Thanks, Eden!! Wait…by calling me a baby are you insinuating I wear Depends?!? 😉
And xo back atch’a
Happy birthday, Ned! I hope your year as a 48 year old is splendid and brings many HILARIOUS blog posts! Having said that, I truly feel your pain. This month I turn 23 and have my five year school reunion. I have a single grey hair sprouting from my head, and my eyes show subtle signs of crow’s feet. God help us.
Happpppy Birthday ! Cheers to the pants thing, sounds like the Depends will be waiting a good long time to grace your drawers.
Thanks, Diana! Hopefully, nothing else will be gracing my drawers in the meantime 😉
and we’ll keep you young because you’ll be so busy trying to fight off our spam/comments on the interwebs you won’t have time to get old. happy birthday, ned and thanks for not wearing my underwear.
That sounds like a plan. About the underwear, I mean… 😉
Happy Birthday and may you stay young forever! (And let me know if there’s anything I can do to help with that…. being a plastic surgeon and all….)
LOL! Thanks, Tiffany! Hopefully I can get by with moisturizer and a laugh track 😉
Can’t wait to hear about your reunion!!! And a very happy birthday to you, friend 🙂
Thanks so much, Abigail!
You’re older than me, Putz?
Now I don’t feel so bad about running my entire summer – and my family’s finances – off the rails.
Happy Birthday, you brilliantly twisted Renaissance Man, you.
(But seriously, I admire your drive, courage, humility and talent. But if you tell anyone that, I’ll sic Robyn Lawson on you.)
Wow, you really went right for the jugular by playing the Robyn card! What did I ever do to you! I mean besides appreciating your terrific humor and being a good-hearted father and husband. Shlock.
Oh! The old “kill ’em with kindness” routine.
Well played… old man.
Just calling them as I se them, Squib.
Many happy returns. I am really grateful I stumbled upon your blog. Because now I am expecting a super hilarious high school reunion post. I know a young guy like you can take that kind of pressure. 😉
I’ll be waiting. . . . .
Stephanie
Nowadays, the only pressure I feel comes from eating Mexican food after
Wow, not sure what happened there… What I meant to say before my keyboard was possessed by WP was: Thank You, Stephanie! and nowadays, the only time I feel pressure is when I eat Mexican food after 8 p.m.
Oh! I thought it was an intentional cliffhanger comment. I was like, “after what??”
After breakfast?
After sex?
After working out?
After Chinese and Indian food?
Glad you immediately came back to clarify 8 pm so I could rest easy.
Happy Birthday, Ned. You’re a youthful-looking 72.
Thanks, Calahan. And your a…
Well, never mind.
Just, thanks.
Congratulations and thanks for the warm words! I’m glad to hear you’re getting something out of your blog too and that it’s not just me laughing all the time;)
Believe it or not, but 48 is actually my own personal lucky number, the reasons of which will have me ending up at a psych ward should I ever reveal them, so I’ll just say 48 is my lucky number. 48 and 18 to be precise. And 78 too, so here’s to me reading about your 60th class reunion 30 years from now!
Heck, here’s to hoping you’re still getting lucky at 108!
Wait, that didn’t come out right. Or maybe it did…
Ah, you cracked the code! (13, 43 and 73 are my bad luck numbers, in case you were wondering)
And if I’m still getting lucky at 108, I’ll think of you! Okay, that definitely didn’t come out right at all. Must be because I’m getting older;)
I think by the time you’re 108, “getting lucky” probably means not wetting the bed in your sleep… 😉
I think the Jedi Knight Method of potty training will come in handy then;)
Your blog appeared under the section ”you may like” and seems wordpress knows my taste! I love the post with the thoughts about being a year older! More than happy to follow!
Thank you so much! Especially for reminding me I’m a year older 😉