Mid-life Crisis

To the person who said 40 is too young for a mid-life crisis: BS.
Today I saw a candy apple red convertible with the sticker tape still visible. It flew past me and I watched it until the driver turned the corner. For a brief moment I wanted the car and the freedom it represents and, okay, I’ll admit it, the liquor the college kids inside were on their way to get.
Today’s a gorgeous day.
Back when I was a kid my friends and I would roll the windows down and drive from Burk to Wichita and back. We’d play Bon Jovi as loud as the my little Datsun B210s speakers would go and we’d sing along laughing if we happened to see barely green grass in the sea of blah or tiny buds on trees or birds flying north.
Back then we wore ridiculously huge sunglasses like the ones in style now with lycra tights and keds and long sweaters or t-shirts with socks to match. Our hair was teased so high it hit the top of the car when we got in. We’d see cars like that convertible and talk about how “one day…”
Now the one day’s here. Me and my Focus are feeling a little blue. The friends from those years are long gone, replaced with new friends and new one days.
I’m not real sure where this funk came from. Maybe I’ll break out the Bon Jovi and sing along while toasting this beautiful day with a glass of wine or ten.

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