Turning 50 (as if no one has ever done that before) proved to be an emotional event. We make these milestones up. Predetermine what points will be significant. Arbitrarily agree on a reference point of demarcation. Then when they come up we fall for it completely. “Oh my god. I’m 50!” 50 means over the hill. Ok, there are all kinds of antidotes to that notion. “You are as young as you feel…” “50 is the new in vitro fertilization…” Yea yea yea…, I know. So sue me, I am a sucker for the hype. I guess I decided half a century was just cause to play along with the whole “holly crap my life is mostly over and I haven’t done enough with it”, the “stick a fork in him he’s done”, the “best years are behind you”, flavor of this particular demarcation in the sand. It is very tempting. I won’t go into all my self-pitying morose and woe –is –me aphelia I indulged in. That is too personal. I will just say it produced several drives across the metro with the cone of blubbering sappy dude activated. But alas, now I am 50. It’s official. A full day’s worth. And I have to get on with it. And, well, frankly, it’s not that bad. Today, in fact, I can honestly say I don’t feel a day over 78. (Not really). I am a person who, though in actuality I am a born cynic and pessimist, I really want to be positive. So I work at it. I actually do try to see the positive. It is there. I am not just trying to see fairy’s or pretend things. I am just making myself see what is actually there. And there is a lot. I am actually very blessed. Anyone who has seen my beautiful daughters, or met my amazing soon to be bride, can tell you that. I am a fortunate man. So tonight I am choosing to see 50 as the new 60/20 as in the new 1960’s and the new 1920’s, as in the decades that rejuvenated a century and inspired a world of hope and optimism.