In just a couple of weeks, Your Beloved Correspondent will turn 45 years old. Hard to believe, I know, that’s it’s been just 32 years since a bout of strep throat began my long journey through OCD that continues to this day. (twitch twitch) But this is a time for celebrating, not for worrying about how exactly the silverware is lined up in the drawer! HA HA! (checks silverware drawer)
My best friend, Sean Conner, turned 45 earlier this month and, well, I haven’t heard much from him since. I think he might be clipping coupons or writing long jeremiads to the editor of the Pennysaver about young people and their skateboards. Maybe playing shuffleboard and talking about his lumbago. I can imagine calling him sometime not long after I reach this milestone and our conversation going something like this:
Me: “I had a nice hamburger at the Denny’s for dinner at 3 p.m.”
Me: “Yeah, it reminds me of when [obscure reference to television program from 37 years ago, maybe CHiPs or Manimal]. Ha! That was a doozy!”
Conner: “Is this one of the cranked calls? I have Star 69! I think!”
Me: “Ha ha! Those were the days!”
Anyway, I’ve known dear Mister Conner since we were 10 years old, which — according to my mathematics education in Broward County Schools — is a set not only of the number 10, but also of the null set! I also know that it was some 35 years ago, which is just goddamn ridiculous. Where do the years go? A wise person whose name I’m too lazy to look up on the Internet once said “We live forward, but we look backward.” No, that’s not it. Anyway, it was deep, but the point is that future scares me. Why? I’m not surprised you asked, for some reason.
I lived in Alabama for almost 10 years, so when I visited Fort Lauderdale after 20 years away (the other 10 were misspent in Indiana), I noticed that there were walls separating every house from the main thoroughfare running nearby. Now, I can see why this would be a great idea, in that it would cut down on crime and also on street noise, but there was something ineffably sad about the walling off of communities. They didn’t have this in Alabama, because Alabama is still trying to reach 1964, let alone 2014, so I wasn’t prepared for it. I live in Las Vegas now, where it’s the same deal with the walls. Just bizarre. Being a pedestrian is so unusual now, I guess, that green backyards aren’t missed.
In any case, there are a lot of great things that have happened during my 45 years on this planet, none of which can you prove without a doubt would have occurred without me, so I’m taking credit. Five months after I was born, Neil and Buzz landed on the moon, for instance. I mean, before I was born, WHAT WAS THE POINT? Neil Armstrong is on record as saying, “I almost quit the NASA program … until Sean Hoade was born.” 
Other good things happened, like the Internet, and socks that you can heat up in the microwave. My point is that being born as early as I was, although I now am regretting being an old sack of salted peanuts, was probably a positive thing. But lordy, I feel creaky.
Excellent things are in the cards for 2014, including [thing I can’t tell you yet] as well as a new season of Sherlock and probably 7-8 harrowing deaths on Downton Abbey. Excelsior!