Oh, wait…it’s me! 74 revolutions around the sun today. Damn…that happened quick.
It’s been a fun ride. Some lives saved, some injuries prevented, some careers and futures I was privileged to have a part in rescuing in court. (Check out the one in the current issue of American Handgunner magazine. I was honestly proud to be a part of that action.)
The age is showing, though. Gray hair and whiskers? Hell, I’m just glad the skin hasn’t turned gray yet. I get out of the shower, catch a glimpse in the mirror, and go “Aauugghh! My whole birthday suit is wrinkled!” My gluteus maximus has turned into a gluteus minimus. Nature has installed a speed governor on my body, which I didn’t need because I didn’t think I was ever that fast before.
Yet for all that, I’m happy that I can keep going. The Covid shutdown gave me a preview of retirement that made me shudder. The closest I get to being retired is getting tired over and over again. And I’m not complaining about that.
Two wonderful adult daughters of my own who continue to make me immensely proud, as do my stepdaughter and stepson. Four terrific grandkids of my own and five on my wife’s side, plus two little great-grandsons from that side of the blended family. A wife I adore. I’m happy.
And loyal readers whom I greatly appreciate. Thanks to all of you for being here. I always seem to be teaching on my birthday, which means there’s always a gun in my hand for part of those days. My birthday music will be gunfire on the training range…The Song of My People.