Another Year Older But Not a Bit Wiser

I am fucking forty-eight years old.

Forty-eight!!!!!!!

Can you believe it? I know I can't. Honestly? I don't feel any older than about 30 in my head. And though the body is fully aware of its age and makes it known to me on a regular basis, it hasn't aged badly either.

Forty-fucking-eight!!!!!!!!

In 1958, Lebanon was pretty much the same mess it is now.
In 1958, the U.S. finally successfully launched its first satellite into space. About a year after the Soviets launched Sputnik. Thus launching the false premise of the "missile gap."
In 1958, air travel was revolutionized by the introduction of jet service between New York and Paris via the 707 by Pan Am.
In 1958, NASA was founded.

Prince, Madonna, Tim Burton, and Michael Jackson are all older than me by mere months.

The Everly Brothers had a hit song, "All I Have To Do Is Dream" in 1958. Other hits that year include "Do You Want To Dance," "Peggy Sue,""Yackety Yak," "Sweet Little Sixteen,""Splish Splash," "Who's Sorry Now," "Great Balls of Fire," "Tequila," "Get A Job," and "At the Hop."

Breakfast At Tiffanys, Dr. No, and Yertle the Turtle were all published that year.

Not a huge year, apparently, in modern American history. Nothing of great significance. The year that could be the poster child for the somnolent Fifties.

It has to make you wonder.

How did such a disruptive, disconcerting, and dysfunctional soul such as I am come from such a tranquil time?

I think I'm an allergic reaction.

I'm fucking forty-fucking-eight.