Third trimester?

Thirty years ago I was thirty. Now I'm 60. Thirty years from now I'll be 90, or not. At my 30th birthday party a very wise and cool friend, Cecil Sutphen, advised me not to sweat turning 30 because, having just turned 40, he was at the top of his game and 30 was just kid stuff. At last week's 60th party, no 70 year old said anything like that. I should have invited Cecil. By the way, today, March 30 is Mary Jo's and my 33rd wedding anniversary. To each other. And, because I started this blog yesterday and noted the day of my first blog entry, I somehow remembered that March 30 also had some resonance. Thirty-three years ago. A stealth wedding. Only the immediate family, slouching down State Street. You see, marriage was not very cool back then. At least not in Madison, not for a radical feminist. Certainly not for a 602 Club bartender. So why did we do it? Parents. Less stress. Moving to Baltimore with a couple of law degrees. Could use the money. Money? A reception, a few weeks later in Youngstown. The central Wisconsin Wausau boy, from a nuclear German family was immersed into a very extended Youngstown Italian clan. Talk about dazed and confused. And 3 years and 8 months later, at 30, I became a father.
30

The first blog post of the rest of my life

Date of birth; February 6, 1947. Last day at the office; February 23, 2007. The celebration of both; March 24, 2007. Family, friends, workmates, Point Beer, ouzo, leg of lamb and baklava. Like a wedding reception...or a wake. And I was more alert (but less sober) than I was on the first occasion or will be on the last. Now what?