It Just Sags Like a Heavy Load.

Now that I'm getting on into my forties, I am becoming aware that some of the dreams/expectations I had as a child are looking pretty unlikely at this point. For instance:

• It would appear that I am NOT going to be a rock star after all. I will not get to travel all over the globe and have scantily clad groupies waiting for me backstage. Pretty much every song I've ever heard and loved  I've imagined that I was the person who wrote that song, and that I was the person singing it on the radio. But I can't write songs, I can't play an instrument well, and I can't sing, and I don't think you'll ever see me on MTV (Do they even still play videos on MTV?). 
• Though some actors get started late in their lives, it's looking like I WON'T win that Academy Award. And to think of all of the time I've spent practicing my acceptance speech, and all the time I've spent practicing the expression I'd make the first time I was nominated, when I didn't win ("It was an honor just to be nominated, and everyone takes all of this far too seriously" I'd say).
• I used to look at my body and think I was just "that close" to having a terrific body. If I put a concerted effort into it I could get there, get really defined and get a big ole six pack..  Now I'd say I'm "t   h   a    t           c     l     o     s     e" and the odds are starting to work against me. Even a concerted effort wouldn't get me back to the "that close" I used to bemoan.
• I am not going to be a professional athlete after all. I actually pretty much knew that by the time I was in high school and sitting the bench for the football team. Still, though, I always told myself that I still had all four years of my college athletic eligibility remaining, thanks in great part to the fact that I red shirted all four years I was in college. Maybe when I got into shape (see Bullet Three above) maybe I'd try out for the team. 
• I also apparently am NOT going to be a millionaire. I never really knew exactly what I was going to do to become a millionaire (though looking back, I would think my Oscar-winning, Super Bowl ring-wearing, rock and rolling self with a killer body could probably land some endorsement deals), but I always thought I'd be rich and famous sooner or later.

But nope. It ain't gonna happen. The extraordinary life I thought I was going to lead never materialized. The "extra" in "extraordinary" sort of fell to the wayside, and I'm moving solidly down the path of "ordinary." I live in a nondescript house that looks pretty much like all of the rest of the houses in the town I live in (the couple of streets of garish, near-million dollar homes the exception), and I'm living a nondescript life that looks pretty much like all of the rest of the lives of people I know. I'm sure there are people somewhere who are living the exciting lives that I've watched on television, but I'm not those people now, and I won't be in some future date.

Maybe THAT's all a mid-life crisis really is, realizing--not that the end is near--but that though there may be PLENTY of days ahead, none of them are going to contain those fabulous dreams you used to imagine would be yours...eventually. The time for "eventually" is running out, and if you ever really had a chance, you missed it.

But don't get the idea that I am going through a hard time right now. I'm not really. In fact, this whole topic isn't something new. I've thought about writing about pretty much ever since I started this blog, but I didn't want to give people the idea that I was going to go buy an expensive sports car, or that I'd be writing on here soon about my new 28 year old girlfriend. I'm not REALLY all that bummed about all this, and I think it's funny more than anything.

Actually, and I'm being completely serious here, I think the moment that all of this DID hit home with me, and when it DID actually hurt a little, was a couple of years ago when Indianapolis Colts quarterback Peyton Manning was doing a series of commercials for MasterCard. One commercial in particular really got to me. It was funny, very funny, and I laughed out loud the first time I saw it, but you know what they say about jokes--there's always a little bit of truth in them. And at the same time that I laughed I also felt a punch in my gut. I know this is egocentric, but I swear I felt like Manning was really talking to me! He MEANT what he was saying. And I saw that commercial maybe two dozen more times over that football season, and I was a little sullen about it every time.

I think I got over it finally, though. I watched the commercial just a few minutes ago and I don't find it painful anymore. It's just funny. You can watch it, too, right here:

(I can't see the video.)