James Bow: Now as Old as Jack Benny

So, today’s my 39th birthday. My father is watching Nora, and Erin and I are spending a little time having lunch and writing together.

This birthday feels fairly momentous; almost moreso than the big four-oh. Thirty nine is the cusp of something. Forty is… well, it’s forty.

And as I write this, it comes to me that I was twenty-nine when I started writing this blog. Since that time, Erin and I have had two children, published four novels, and have tried to embark on actual writing careers. When did we become responsible adults? Mentally, I still feel much as I did when I was nineteen. Physically, on the other hand, my body seems to disagree.

I’ve also posted over 2,400 posts. I’ve kept a diary of my life and my work over the past ten years. I think I’ve gotten more politically active, and I’ve had a number of interesting conversations, thanks to all of you. A lot of people are writing on my Facebook wall right now, wishing me a happy birthday, and I’m touched by that. I’m blessed to know a lot of good people, including three sets of good grandparents for the children. And as hard work life is, that’s the real measure of success, I think. Thank you all.

Today, I’ll leave you with the work of Jack Benny, who my father reminds me is now as old as I am:

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