The Mick
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When I was kid, I thought there was a good chance that I would not be alive today. And yes, there is a story behind this; I am so glad you asked.
I was an avid reader of baseball books when I was young. When I was maybe 12 or 13, I read one about Mickey Mantle and I learned that his father died at age 39, when Mantle was a kid. And consequently, Mantle figured he would die young as well, so he may as well live hard (e.g., heavy drinking, etc.).
It was a new concept for me--the idea that a parent dying young could create a ticking time-bomb in the mind of an impressionable young kid. The Mantle story really resonated with me and even though as young teen, I knew it wasn't necessarily rational, I soon had the feeling that I would not live past 37, the age my mother died. I didn't "resolve" to live hard like Mantle but I did decide that it was a long shot for me to live past 37. I later learned that this is a fairly common phenomenon for kids who have a parent who died young. As irrational as it sounds, I carried a bit of that trepidation about age 37 well into adulthood, and in fact, approached my 37th year with a bit of gnawing discomfort--"I will soon be the same age my mother was when she died--will I live longer than her?" Perhaps a bit narcissistic, but I think fairly common for people who had a parent who died young.
I am pleased to report that I have completed my 37th year and as of today, no longer have to worry about making it to age 38.
But of course, one thing that Peter's death taught me is that life can change in almost unfathomable ways in an instant; I can be grateful for living past 37 but I can't take anything for granted. I am well aware of the wacky irony that would result if, for example, I got mowed down by a bus tomorrow.
On that happy note...my assistant tells me she is going to the 8th birthday party of a 32-year old friend tomorrow. I have never met anyone born on February 29 (and I was two years and a day off), but what a concept....it sounds sort of strange but cool to have lived 32 years but only had eight birthdays.
And finally, for anyone who didn't check it out, the clip that Dobe linked to in his last comment was hilarious. Thanks, Dobe!
I was an avid reader of baseball books when I was young. When I was maybe 12 or 13, I read one about Mickey Mantle and I learned that his father died at age 39, when Mantle was a kid. And consequently, Mantle figured he would die young as well, so he may as well live hard (e.g., heavy drinking, etc.).
It was a new concept for me--the idea that a parent dying young could create a ticking time-bomb in the mind of an impressionable young kid. The Mantle story really resonated with me and even though as young teen, I knew it wasn't necessarily rational, I soon had the feeling that I would not live past 37, the age my mother died. I didn't "resolve" to live hard like Mantle but I did decide that it was a long shot for me to live past 37. I later learned that this is a fairly common phenomenon for kids who have a parent who died young. As irrational as it sounds, I carried a bit of that trepidation about age 37 well into adulthood, and in fact, approached my 37th year with a bit of gnawing discomfort--"I will soon be the same age my mother was when she died--will I live longer than her?" Perhaps a bit narcissistic, but I think fairly common for people who had a parent who died young.
I am pleased to report that I have completed my 37th year and as of today, no longer have to worry about making it to age 38.
But of course, one thing that Peter's death taught me is that life can change in almost unfathomable ways in an instant; I can be grateful for living past 37 but I can't take anything for granted. I am well aware of the wacky irony that would result if, for example, I got mowed down by a bus tomorrow.
On that happy note...my assistant tells me she is going to the 8th birthday party of a 32-year old friend tomorrow. I have never met anyone born on February 29 (and I was two years and a day off), but what a concept....it sounds sort of strange but cool to have lived 32 years but only had eight birthdays.
And finally, for anyone who didn't check it out, the clip that Dobe linked to in his last comment was hilarious. Thanks, Dobe!
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