Author’s Note: If I could time travel just once, I’d go back in time and offer some advice to my 40 year old self….

Marlow

Editor’s note: I would hit that cocky young fool with my cane.

– Vic

It was a very good year. I turned 40, pinned on Commander, my alma mater won the national college football championship in January, and my daughters were turning out to be mature, smart and beautiful as college and senior high school students.

Three decades later I wish had had known a few things about the good, bad and ugly that was to come.

Today I am finally going back in time to talk with my 40 year old self.

No, I will not speak loudly. Nor will I answer my younger self when it asks a tough or smart-ass question. So no, I am not losing it. I just need to have a chat with my 40 year old self.

As I take the time to dust myself off, I recall how far I have come, and hope to be graced with much more time to live. My post-40 road at times was hard, filled with a lot of disappointments and false promises.

My 40 year old self was ornery and full of piss and vinegar. Thick-skinned, though I styled myself as sensitive to many things. More than I care to recall, my 40 year old self considered some things that came easy were not worth having.

Therefore, smiles were rare at times due to the constant lessons relearned.

My 40 year old self could be hilarious at times. Some people may not have seen this. My immediate family saw it, though it was mixed with more than a pinch of crazy. With all of the (insert profanity here) that I did, none of them deserved the crazy.

My 40 year old self got bored easily. Perhaps I was ADD or ADHD. The scary part about that was the only thing that I can do about that is marvel at how far I got career wise and that I escaped state and federal charges.

Here is a list of things that I noticed as time flew by:

My metabolism in the absence of exercise took a nose dive.

Things stopped working, at least as far as my body went, although it could have been much much worse.

Grey hairs started appearing in undesirable places.

My hairline receded and my hair thinned.

I put on a few pounds every year.

I ran out of breath more easily.

My reaction times slowed.

Here is what I would say to my 40 year old self:

You’ve now joined the mature adult club. Think about that. And then think about it some more.

Be more moderate and forgiving.

Acknowledge life is grey sometimes and not black and white.

Save and invest a few bucks for your grey skied/haired days. If you are just starting to do this, save a lot more than a few.

Enjoy life.

Be well.

Make an effort to maintain friendship with those you care and love.

Here are some things I did post-40 that made a difference:

Got a sports car, someone who truly loved me, and more youthful and better looking clothes.

Went to rock concerts and lots of live music venues.

Changed the pronunciation and/or the spelling of my name as well as my occupation, whenever I wanted to shock folks — e.g., “escaping warrants” when asked why I had moved to someplace new.

Volunteered time and gave generously to those in need.

Things I should have known but didn’t when they came to bite me:

Small print gets harder to read.

The need to go to quieter restaurants to converse.

Buy Apple, Google and Amazon stock.

Older relatives and friends are not forever. Ask them about their days gone by. Write down what they say. Reread it every year,

Existentialism like most 20th century ism’s is poser bullshit.

Optimism like faith is a gift and a blessing.

Grudges are for sucks.

Be an angel of peace to those in need but a warlock of violence to those who threaten your beloveds, and

a last few pieces of advice — fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life; trust but verify: In God We Trust, but Smith & Wesson will do in a pinch; stay off Facebook; label old photos; develop outside interests; get off the short bus, if you find yourself on board it.

Now, dear readers, write your own lists that you want to share with your 40 year old selves and find the opportunity to share them with your kids. . . . and grandkids, when they are old enough.

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