When I was 29:
I had the world on a string, or so I thought. I was immortal. Young and foolish.

When I was 39:
I had discovered a good reason to settle down and not act so foolish, though I still was.

And now I’m 49:
My knees hurt. I can’t see as well as I used to (get a load of that one. I was born half-blind!). If I don’t get my 8 hours I need a nap (well, I need a nap anyway). I realize I’m mortal. Even though I know so much more than I did when I was 19, or 29, or even 39, I realize I really don’t know much at all. I’m foolish, I know it, and I hope that is what will eventually bring wisdom.

I have people in my life that I love and love me back, the respect of my peers (or so they tell me), and I am able to pursue activities that I enjoy and that I fancy myself somewhat skilled.

And I have Chastise Man to help me tell it like it is.

Even if I could, I don’t think I’d take 39, 29, and most especially not 19 again. 

Let’s see if I am as sanguine next year when I turn 50.

Sing it Frank!  It Was A Very Good Year

IF – Joni Mitchell – If.wma
-Joni Mitchell, from the poem by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head
While all about you
People are losing theirs and blaming you
If you can trust yourself
When everybody doubts you
And make allowance for their doubting too.

If you can wait
And not get tired of waiting
And when lied about
Stand tall
Don't deal in lies
And when hated
Don't give in to hating back
Don't need to look so good
Don't need to talk too wise.

If you can dream
And not make dreams your master
If you can think
And not make intellect your game
If you can meet
With triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same

If you can force your heart
And nerve and sinew
To serve you
After all of them are gone
And so hold on
When there is nothing in you
Nothing but the will
That's telling you to hold on!
Hold on!

If you can bear to hear
The truth you've spoken
Twisted and misconstrued
By some smug fool
Or watch your life's work
Torn apart and broken down
And still stoop to build again
With worn out tools.

If you can draw a crowd
And keep your virtue
Or walk with Kings
And keep the common touch
If neither enemies nor loving friends
Can hurt you
If everybody counts with you
But none too much.

If you can fill the journey
Of a minute
With sixty seconds worth of wonder and delight
Then
The Earth is yours
And Everything that's in it
But more than that
I know
You'll be alright
You'll be alright.

Cause you've got the fight
You've got the insight
You've got the fight
You've got the insight