Life at 49

Yes, I turned forty-nine today.I decided to see what other people were- or are, in one case- doing at this decrepit old age.

Herschell Walker announced earlier this year that, after 14 years out of football, he was going to try and get a tryout with the Atlanta Falcons.  Good luck with that.

Liz Taylor asked for and received a cameo on her favorite soap, General Hospital.  She was cast as the evil Helena Conssadine, and was in 3 episodes.

Gordie Howe was in the midst of a 24-goal campaign for the Houston Aeros of the WHA.  He and his sons would jump to the New England Whalers during the off season.

Mother Theresa was 4 years into building the Children's Home of the Immaculate Heart, and struggling with a recurring crisis of faith.

Douglas MacArthur was Chief of Staff of the US Army, the highest ranking active post in the Army, and halfway between ordering Patton to disperse the Bonus Army and retiring to be a civilian advisor in the Phillipines.

Abraham Lincoln was debating Stephen Douglas in their congressional campaign, and giving his "House Divided" speech.

Davy Crockett was settling his late father-in-law's estate and tying up loose ends in preparation for a move to Texas that fall.

Napoleon Bonaparte was in his third year of exile in St. Helena, with rumours of his escape circulating and his benefactor on the island, William Balcombe, being forced to leave the island by his jailer.

George Washinton was slowly, inexorably working his way toward Yorktown and an autumn meeting with Lord Cornwallis.

Gallileo, for the first time, was accused of possible heresy by Cosimo Boscaglia for postulating that the earth was not the center of the universe.

Mohammed was undergoing his "year of sorrows", losing a wife, an uncle and benefactor, and his protected status in the city of Mecca.

Paul was in Ephesus during his third missionary journey.

And John F. Kennedy had been dead for three years.

What will I do?  I don't know.  I won't be trying out for any football or hockey teams, that's for sure.  Nor will I be retiring or making an amazing comeback from the same.  I won't be on a soap- there are hardly any left- and with the price of gas, I imagine my journeys will be short ones.

But, you know what?  I'm not in exile, I'm not being persecuted, and I'm not dead.  And that counts for something.  Will I have sorrows?  Will I have crises of faith?  Probably- like I said, I'm not dead.  And I have as much chance of finding myself at "Yorktown" as I do "the Alamo".  Unless, like that nutjob in Boston (I think) says, we have a civilization-ending earthquake Saturday at 6 pm, I think I'll be okay.  Tune in and find out, won't you?