Things I Know 61 of 365: I am 30

Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.

– Dr. Seuss

Thirty years and a day ago, I wasn’t.

Then, the next day, I was.

For the last couple months, my sister Rachel has been teasing me about this birthday.

“You know,” she’s said with that tone where the “o” in “know” lasts a bit longer, “you are going to be old soon.”

She’s teasing, trying to elicit a defensive, fear-of-death response.

“I know,” I reply, “I can’t wait.”

It’s true.

I’m not exactly rushing toward death, but certainly rushing toward whatever’s next.

Truth be told, I’ve put quite a bit into those 30 years.

I’ve:

  • been born.
  • learned to walk and talk.
  • had stitches a bunch of times.
  • built many forts and clubhouses.
  • had four dogs.
  • fallen in love.
  • become a vegetarian.
  • lived in four states.
  • gotten a college degree.
  • run 8 marathons.
  • become a big brother three times over.
  • started my master’s degree – three times over.
  • taught over 1,000 kids.
  • seen the divorces and marriages of my parents.
  • served as editor in chief of a newspaper.
  • rafted down the Colorado River.
  • officiated three weddings of friends.
  • seen the sun rise over the Atlantic Ocean.
  • watched the sun set over the Pacific Ocean.
  • run along the coast of the Indian Ocean.
  • visited Kenya.
  • visited South Africa (twice).
  • co-authored and edited a book.
  • skydived.
  • lost my bookbag to a baboon.
  • recovered my bookbag from a baboon.
  • died my hair blue, green, read, orange, purple, and blond.
  • smoked a few cigars.
  • learned how to cook.
  • performed improv.
  • told my family and friends I love them (but probably not enough).
  • been diagnosed with and recovered from osteomyelitis.
  • developed an allergy to cats.
  • visited 40 of the states in the Union.
  • read.
  • transitioned from being a PC to being a Mac.
  • accidentally shot a bluejay with a BB gun.
  • watched every episode of The West Wing and Arrested Development like it was my job.
  • caught snowflakes on my tongue.
  • written.
  • failed.
  • changed the world by doing way more than saving a single starfish.
  • mourned the death of Johnny Cash.
  • voted.
  • collected hats.
  • collected pins.
  • sounded my barbaric Yawp.
  • cried.
  • been a member of a live studio audience.
  • gambled in a casino.
  • decided casinos make me sad.
  • played with a wood burning kit.
  • sang.
  • left a thawing Cornish game hen in a sculpture shaped like a hand (four times).
  • learned to crochet.
  • laughed.

And those are just the things I can remember off the top of my head.

I can’t wait for the next 30 years.