Just another day...

[THE DARKHORSE]

Damn, it comes every year, right on time, but once you're my age---is your day of birth really that significant? I'm obviously not talking about the birth of a child. I realize how special that day is, but from personal experience, as I age---I do everything I can to downplay the unavoidable. And practically hide from friends and family to help remind myself that, it's alright, what's one more year? I mean really, besides having a rough estimate of your age for medical purposes, it's just another day, right? There certainly isn't anything you can do about it. And as they say, any day above ground is a good one! So no complaints in that regard, as I'm blessed to be very much alive.

I don't know about you, but when I was young, I looked forward to getting older with great anticipation. Admittedly it wasn't, the wisdom which comes with age that was so attractive at the time. Rather, all the fun it looked like from the outside looking in; doing all the grown-up activities: partying with friends, driving fast cars, chasing loose-women and spending money as if it grew on trees! By the time I was twenty-five, though, I had an epiphany. I realized that my relatively short time on Earth was beginning to fly. And not only that, but it seemed to go faster and faster as each day came to a close. Looking back, it seems silly to have these thoughts at, what now, seems like such a young age. Funny enough, I remember saying to everyone who would listen at the time, I'm a quarter century! Just in case the wrinkle-free skin, full head of hair without one strand of gray, or the not a care in the world attitude didn't appropriately portray my age. Man, those were the days!

Then came the stresses of daily life; gray hairs a plenty---and bills out the wazoo. I don't know about you, but it's sometimes a challenge to smell the Roses through all the bullsh!#. And I find it highly unlikely I'm alone in that regard. I don't care how optimistic you are; there's just hoops 'a plenty to jump through in life. It's a glorified rat-race on most days; and don't expect a fine piece of Goat-cheese at the end, either. Ah, such is life!

The real kicker, as if time slipping away isn't enough, you know what makes my blood boil more than anything? : now that I'm old---partying hard, driving fast cars, chasing loose-women and spending money like it grows on trees isn't in vogue anymore---WTF! Apparently, there's these terrible afflictions known as moral obligations, prudent actions during tough times and dare I say, responsible life choices. How's one to breathe with so many responsible expectations pushing down on your chest? Sometimes in through the nose out through the mouth, just barely and I mean barely, gets the job done.

With all this in mind, I'm a strong advocate of treating oneself to the finer things in life. If your significant other isn't going to buy you that shiny, two-speed reel, who is? And if she has the uncanny ability to grow a split-personality when the Platinum-card is in her hands---well, two can play at that game! Being that I'm fairly responsible with my spending, though, I tend to opt for simply having fun on my birthday these days. Which, tradition wise anyway, means I'm simply going for a surf. I've been blessed in many ways, but it's uncanny how good the surf is on my birthday each year. As a matter of fact, it's been firing, almost every year on this fairly insignificant day. Some of the best barrels of my life have come on my birthday. And after giving it a lot of thought, I can't really put my finger on, well, why. Since quality swells have many, many variables it doesn't really make sense to always have an epic swell on a certain day. Which unfortunately, I guess I don't have to worry about that anymore; since it was flat yesterday. The streak has officially come to an end. I had the perfect plan: to snowboard all day Tuesday, which I did. Then surf on my birthday, like I've always done, but alas, it wasn't meant to be.

Which only leaves one other option, of course. Go fishing! Being that I had concrete plans to party like a rock-star last night, I certainly wasn't going to get up early. I slept in and made it to the launch around eleven, just as one yum-yum-yellow X-Factor landed. I passed two other yum-yum-yellow kayaks as I made my way to the condo. I figured at least, my mathematical odds of getting eaten by a Great White Shark were fairly low. Soon, though, I was all alone. And, as far as Jaws was concerned, I would have to rely on the giant herd of Seals and Sea lions from this point on. Not one boat or kayak for miles in either direction---ah, solitude---a great gift in itself! By the time I searched the ocean high and low, trying to put the puzzle together, my phone started to ring off the hook! I wasn't falling for it, though. And selfishly giggled as it rang, all the while thinking, it's my damn birthday!
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Any advice on how to wrap this huge, MF'R?
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One guy fishing in a relatively, tiny vessel, without a soul in sight---Heaven on Earth!