The cab driver said he had five kids and that the oldest was 25. He guessed I was 32 which is off by less than half a year, so I guess if you round up it's right. I just told him he was right.

At 32, apparently, you have about eight great years left. According to the cab driver, 30 to 40 is where it's at. 40 is the point at which you're no longer in your best years. He was probably in his early 50s, so whether he was right or not, I was under the impression that he was basing it on experience.

"30 to 40, man. Because you're comfortable with yourself."

I said, "or balding," partly to thwart what I thought might be a serious conversation I didn't feel like having and partly because it was minorly humorous in the context, since I am.

"You know then after 40 you have to do your whole Midlife Crisis."

I expressed general doubt. I also said that I wasn't into cars, so I probably wouldn't do the sports car thing.

"I went out and bought a brand new Mustang. My kids think I'm nuts, except for the twelve year-old. (I still have one that's twelve.) He asked me if I would leave the car to him in my will. I said 'I'm not planning to leave it to anyone.'"

He seemed amiable enough, like he even thought it was funny to be a cliché. I decided against getting into discussions involving abandoning one's wife for a 22 year-old trophy. In fact I avoided the subject of relationships altogether just because I know I have a tendency to go on at length, and I've just recently left a long term relationship and kind of partly rekindled one that predates this blog.

"I'm going to go skydiving. Because it scares the hell out of me."

I thought of an ad for skydiving I had just seen that evening: A couple falling together under a single parachute. He with a shit-eating grin and she with both thumbs up like some kind of floating Lyndie English remarking on the moron strapped to her back.

"Might as well do it now. If I don't die of a heart attack on the way down, I figure I'm golden."

Maybe if I were more comfortable with myself at the moment I'd have thought of those two skydivers as lovers instead of idiots.

what's on:
"Mr. Ambulance Driver" (The Flaming Lips - At War with the Mystics)