Friday, December 26, 2008

If life's for living, what's living for...

Since I have turned 40 I have been accused of having a mid-life crisis. I hate that term. I think it's insulting and assumes that I, like many men, are reverting to some second childhood. For me, that is impossible, since I never really left my first childhood. I knew this years ago when my nine year old daughter told me to grow up. Proof that you are never too old to be immature. What is growing up anyway? Worry, stress, working yourself to death, losing your sense of humor? I want no part of that. I would rather follow some crazy dream and spend all my time worrying and stressing about that. And I do. I did not have a mid-life crisis at 40. I had, what I like to call, a mid-life awakening (see blog title). This is when I found my passion. Performing. I realized this performance gene was inside of me for years. When I was younger, I used to sing and put on shows for my grandmother. She loved it, but that kind of falls under the job description of grandma. I always enjoyed being the center of attention. When I was in school and we had to do those presentations in front of the class, I actually looked forward to it. I know that is sick, but I really enjoyed it.

Now that I have gotten older (without growing up), I spent a lot of my time surpressing the performer in me in lieu of a career in Accounting. Talk about a career that has the least amount of performance value? Accountants, as a rule, are pretty boring people. Although the accounting profession has been good to me, it has bored me to tears. So, I found an outlet. The reason why it took me to the age of 40 is because I was making money to own a house in a decent neighborhood for the family. Does this qualify as a crisis? I like to think it makes me a responsible adult. How grown up does that sound? Thank you very much. Maybe that nine year old was wrong about her Dad. She is such a poo poo head.

To me, a mid life crisis is when you buy the red sports car, or a motorcycle. Both too ridiculous and dangerous for me. Why would anyone want to do somehting so silly. I would much rather perform in front of a room full of total strangers and hope they like me.

If I wanted to be really honest with myself, I would admit that the only reason I am so obsessed with following my passion is because every day, I am closer to death. This doesn't scare me as much as it makes me angry. I just want more time. I realized this mathematical equation when I hit 40. Now, I am 51. The last 11 years flew. The next 11 will probably go even faster. I approach my dream like I am running out of time.

Because, I am.

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