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No Thanks
An inevitable fact of life is that when we wake up every day, without fail, we will be exactly one year older than we were on that same day a year ago.  Years pass us by and eventually aggregate into a number that we may or may not feel entirely comfortable with.  I turn 30 on Thanksgiving day this year and I have to say, I am not really sure how to feel.

On one hand, I don’t feel quite as spry as I did at 20.  Bouncing back from a hard hit or a late night does not come quite as easily.  A few too many bourbons in an evening will set me back a lot further than it used too.  I’ve tried drinking better booze, and it helps, but not all the way.  Woodford replaced Evan Williams for me in my mid 20s and I’ve never looked back.

But as I stare 30 right in the nose, I feel like I am looking into a mirror and not fully recognizing the face looking back at me.  It looks like me, but maybe he’s got a bit of amnesia.  At 30, we’re supposed to have a lot of this whole life thing figure out.  Sure, I’ve learned a lot in the past few years, but I’ve got a long way to go.  I don’t feel old, but I don’t feel young.  I feel a bit conflicted.

I know all of you older fellas out there will tell me I’m crazy and that 30 isn’t really that old.  And you are probably right.  But I don’t know what it feels like to be 40, 50, or 60 yet, so this is all the experience I have.  And to all of you twenty-somethings, don’t you worry.  30 will happen to you, too.
So I’m going to do what I’ve always done on my birthday.  Enjoy a great Thanksgiving holiday with my family and hope that everyone forgets that it also happens to be my birthday.  Because if you don’t acknowledge it, maybe it didn’t happen. Right?

See you on the other side.

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