FISCHER: Over the hill

By Travis Fischer, tkfischer@charlescitypress.com

40.

Forty. Cuarenta. Yonjuu. Fjörutíu.

Four decades ago the world was graced with “Ghostbusters,” one of the greatest movies that isn’t actually about anything ever made.

Also, I was born.

Yep, I’m 40 now. My 30s are no more, my 20s are a distant memory. Forty trips around the sun and that ever-persistent clock just keeps on continuing to tick. In fact, I’m not convinced it isn’t speeding up.

It’s official. I’m not just a “grown-up” now. I’m headed for the other side of the hill.

Sure, 40 may still be considered “young” in rural Iowa, but that says more about rural Iowa than anything else. The unescapable fact is that I am firmly middle-aged. My youth is gone, and no amount of playing 1990s Sonic the Hedgehog games is going to bring it back.

I’m older than Alan Alda was when “M*A*S*H” premiered. Older than Ted Danson was when “Cheers” began. When I was a kid, I remember the weird realization that I was now as old as Bart Simpson. Now I’m as old as Homer Simpson.

However, lest you think this whole column is just going to be me working through an existential mid-life crisis, have no worries. I’m growing my hair out to take care of that.

All things considered, life is good. I’m wiser than I was when I turned 20. I’m in better shape than I was when I turned 30.

It’s a cliché, but it’s true that youth is wasted on the young. I know I spent most of my youth trying to figure out how things work, living in an impermanent state of mind thinking that I was just biding my time and paying my dues before my “real life” began.

I realized some time back that it was always my “real life” and when you have that realization, that’s when the fun begins.

So yeah, I’m “over the hill,” but that’s when you start gaining momentum.

Stan Lee was 40-years-old when he created Spider-Man and Lucille Ball was 40 when she got her big break with “I Love Lucy,” the show that allowed her to later become indirectly responsible for the creation of “Star Trek.”

J.R.R. Tolkien didn’t publish “The Hobbit” until he was 45, so I’ve still got plenty of time to get the books that have been rattling around in my head out in the world.

Am I overly thrilled about hitting halftime on this mortal coil? No. Obviously not. But I’m in a better place in my life now that I have ever been and I can only hope that trend continues so that 10 years from now when I turn 50 I don’t absolutely lose my mind.

— Travis Fischer is a news writer for the Charles City Press and probably has to start looking up what check-ups he needs to schedule now.