As I sit here on the morning of my 20th, oops 50th birthday I felt like I needed to add a thought to the music blog. Actually I hardly ever celebrate my own birthday other than use it as an excuse to buy a new gadget. Did I mention I got a new camera? Now my concert pictures may improve! Just another day as I say, at least to me. Then again there are those days every now and then when one will feel a bit different.
Before I forget, there are some really nice concerts coming up in the next few weeks. I plan to be there to take it all in and report back to you on what I saw….stay tuned. Meanwhile I need to plug in my margarita machine and smell the mangoes.
Fifty years has really gone by in a blur. Just like many people say each year seems faster than the one before. I remember the day when Jimmy wrote a song about all of this and the “broken leg” tour associated with the lyrics in this song. Now all of the sudden this song means more to me. It must be the separation anxiety of the first number of my age being associated with my lucky number four. But that doesn’t bother me so much. I have always believed that luck is the intersection of preparedness and opportunity instead of a silly number anyway. Breathe, Believe, Receive.
Anyway, it is time to live a bit. There is no better time than this moment because that is all we have guaranteed to us. I am grateful for this one! Yes as I say every morning “I am thrilled to be here.” It is another day in paradise. I hoist my glass to you! See ya down the road.
Jimmy Buffett
1980
For all those who don’t feel as old as they are and never will
I rounded first never thought of the worst
As I studied the shortstops position
Crack went my leg like the shell of an egg
Someone call a decent physician
I’m no Pete Rose, I can’t pretend
Though my mind is quite flexible, these brittle bones don’t bend
I’m growing older but not up
My metabolic rate is pleasantly stuck
Let those winds of time blow over my head
Id rather die while I’m living than live while I’m dead
Sometimes I see me as old manatee
Headin’ south as the waters grow colder
Tries to steer clear of the hum-drum so near
It cuts prop scars deep in his shoulder
But that’s how it goes, that’s how it goes, right to the end
Though his bodys quite flexible, that barnacle brain don’t bend
I’m growing older but not up
My metabolic rate is pleasantly stuck
Let those winds of time blow over my head
I’d rather die while I’m livin’ than live while I’m dead