The significance of 50............
There's the 50 dollar bill. It's been a long time since I've seen one.
There's 50 Cent, a rapper who recites profanity filled poetry to a subwoofer popping hip hop beat .
There's the 50 dollar bill. It's been a long time since I've seen one.
There's 50 Cent, a rapper who recites profanity filled poetry to a subwoofer popping hip hop beat .
There are 50 cent words, words that are large and obscure and are used in place of small and simple words. They make the talker appear to be either incredibly intelligent or a showoff. Whichever I am, I love 50 cent words.
There's 50-50, a set of twin tickets with one going to me and one going to the seller. A drawing follows. The seller and his crew pick numbers that differ from mine significantly. My prize is the lonely half of the losing ticket that sits in my coat pocket. It's not seen again until pocket emptying day, when a variety of goodies, including some receipts, a mint or two that has fallen out of its case, and some insignificantly small change, visit the trash can or my piggy bank. I'm not fond of 50-50 tickets.
There's the age of 50. I achieved this milestone a few years back. It answered a boatload of questions for me. Before that birthday, I'd find myself looking in the mirror and asking, Why is my hair so gray? I wish I knew, or Why does my belly stick out so much? Do I eat too much? or Why are there hairless spots on my head? Is it hereditary? Then, one day, it was Why is my hair so gray? Because I'm 50! and Why does my belly stick out so much? Because I'm 50! and Why are there hairless spots on my head? Because I'm 50! When my glasses are on my face, I look in the mirror and have the just mentioned dialogue with myself and enjoy my middle aged confidence, and relish the sporadic respect I receive. When I am not wearing my glasses, I can't see myself in the mirror anyway, so it's an out of sight, out of mind sort of moment, and I don't ask myself any questions!
There are 50 states. I can remember putting a wooden Jigsaw puzzle with 50 pieces each representing a state together as a child. I remember learning the states in grammar school, along with their capitals, and I remember my children reciting that aptly titled song 50 Nifty United States. I was always fascinated with the map of the United States.
Today, 50 signifies the first blog of the new year, and my 50th. I have several started pieces that have amounted to nothing. I have some that will see the light of day with a little focus and adaptation. I have some found treasures that have sparked a wistful longing for days gone by, and I hope to fill the next 50 blogs with them. This week, my youngest child, my son Brian turned 18. It is the end of an era in the family. The extended family birthday parties end at age 18, and Brian is the youngest of his generation. I will no longer have any school age children after he graduates from high school in June. The photo collage below has been the introductory symbol of my blog since its beginning almost a year ago. It means the world to me. With this 50th post, I have lovingly saved the picture here and edited a new collage with a new set of memories, and placed it in the vacated spot.
Perhaps a little writer's block, could be that these are busy times, maybe I'm too addicted to Words With Friends......I've missed my writing, and I can't pinpoint a definite reason for being lax this month...In any case, I'm back with #50 and it feels good.
There's the age of 50. I achieved this milestone a few years back. It answered a boatload of questions for me. Before that birthday, I'd find myself looking in the mirror and asking, Why is my hair so gray? I wish I knew, or Why does my belly stick out so much? Do I eat too much? or Why are there hairless spots on my head? Is it hereditary? Then, one day, it was Why is my hair so gray? Because I'm 50! and Why does my belly stick out so much? Because I'm 50! and Why are there hairless spots on my head? Because I'm 50! When my glasses are on my face, I look in the mirror and have the just mentioned dialogue with myself and enjoy my middle aged confidence, and relish the sporadic respect I receive. When I am not wearing my glasses, I can't see myself in the mirror anyway, so it's an out of sight, out of mind sort of moment, and I don't ask myself any questions!
There are 50 states. I can remember putting a wooden Jigsaw puzzle with 50 pieces each representing a state together as a child. I remember learning the states in grammar school, along with their capitals, and I remember my children reciting that aptly titled song 50 Nifty United States. I was always fascinated with the map of the United States.
Today, 50 signifies the first blog of the new year, and my 50th. I have several started pieces that have amounted to nothing. I have some that will see the light of day with a little focus and adaptation. I have some found treasures that have sparked a wistful longing for days gone by, and I hope to fill the next 50 blogs with them. This week, my youngest child, my son Brian turned 18. It is the end of an era in the family. The extended family birthday parties end at age 18, and Brian is the youngest of his generation. I will no longer have any school age children after he graduates from high school in June. The photo collage below has been the introductory symbol of my blog since its beginning almost a year ago. It means the world to me. With this 50th post, I have lovingly saved the picture here and edited a new collage with a new set of memories, and placed it in the vacated spot.
Perhaps a little writer's block, could be that these are busy times, maybe I'm too addicted to Words With Friends......I've missed my writing, and I can't pinpoint a definite reason for being lax this month...In any case, I'm back with #50 and it feels good.
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