I Turned 40 Today!

I’m 40 today. I realize that this day will only come once in my life, so I thought it might be a good idea to do a bit of “stream of consciousness” writing just to see where I was at on the day I turned the big 4-0! This isn’t a newspaper column or a race report. I don’t think I’ll take the time to edit it, either. One sitting, straight through. What I type is what I get! Tony uncensored! Unedited (OK, I didn’t spell uncensored or unedited correctly so this will be spell checked).

I haven’t been much of a Facebook poster. Yes, I have a lot of friends on Facebook but I don’t do much with them. I guess in that regard Facebook sort of parallels life, more so a guys life. I love the fact that guys can go years without seeing each other, get together for a few hours at a game, a trade show or a party, feel like they were long lost best friends and then part ways without the “we should hang” talk that seems to affect so many women’s relationships. And yes, I type those last comments as a professional therapist. I’ve sat with many, many female clients who try their best to break down the game film on their friendships, and burn a lot of calories worrying about them. Wait, burning calories...worrying about friendships, I think I'm on to the next fad diet! Yet I digress, I’m 40!

The reason I brought up Facebook is that today I learned what it can truly be good for…hearing from a lot of old friends with very witty things to say about your age. Some of my favorites: (Note – I had a bunch more come in later in the evening, a couple with some great comments but in the vein of getting something posted, I decided to just go with what I typed earlier)

From friend Leslie: “Enjoy your new age group.” She’s talking about moving up to the 40-45 year old age group in ultra running. The only problem is that over 40 is when ultra runners hit their stride! I’ll actually fall a few places in my age group finish ranks now that I’m over 40!

From cousin Kevin: “"What's it feel like, cous? I've been sweating this one myself. Wow, 40, that sounds old." Yeah, it does sound old. Wendy and I were talking about it this morning and when you were younger, even in your 20’s, and you heard somebody was 40 you thought they were old! I don’t feel old! I had a client just last week tell me that they had gone out with an older couple in their neighborhood. I had to ask. “How old?” She said, “I don’t know, I think he was 38 and she was 36.” I told myself that she was actually complimenting me because she much not have thought I was THAT old!

From my friend Brien: “"Wow 40! You've finally joined the club. Well look on the bright side, at least you're not going to lose your hair. Happy Birthday bro." Little do those with hair know that being bald, I’ve been told, seems to hide the age a bit. No gray hair, can’t even see how or where it’s receding after a fresh shave…and yes, this morning deserved a fresh shave. I was prepared for plenty of bald jokes today. I actually like them. I see pictures of me when I was still rocking the hair and all I think about is “why wasn’t bald cool when I was younger?” Even with that said, I still did “bald” early on. It took me a while to go from short hair to clipper cut, to a 1 guard to no guard and eventually hit with a razor. But once you go razor, you’re never going back. I almost feel bad that many of you will never experience the joy of a freshly shaven head scrubbed with a pouf with a nice soap. Just picture having your head scratched, in a good way, times 100! Finally, on the subject of bald, it definitely is accepted, but I remember when it wasn’t. Christmas always reminds me of when I did bald before bald was cool. I was carrying a package into FedEx and a nice old lady opened the door for me and gave me that “oh, poor thing!” look. I’m guessing that she assumed I was battling cancer.

Me sporting a "wig hat" my friend Jeffery got me for my 40th, my kids like me better bald.

From my cousin Emily: “"I was not aware you were turning the big 4-0 today!!! Doesn't that make you a little old for facebook :) Just kidding. Happy Birthday cousin :)” Well Emily, actually I do feel a little old for Facebook, just on the edge, but then I get a friend request from somebody 20 years older and I feel OK! I definitely don’t “speak” Facebook, I still type out entire words instead of saying things like: wht r u doin? Which means, I think, “what are you doing?”

From my friend Jennifer: "Happy Birthday my fellow "St. George Marathoner!" Hope 40 brings you lots of happiness! Have a fabulous day!" That’s right, I’m still moving! I have to admit, I’ve started to embrace the cliché “age is just a number” and I have hard evidence to prove it! I’ve never felt better…at least I don’t think I have. My race distances are longer, my times are faster. I’m just a month off of my fastest marathon of the 40 or so I’ve run. When I ran my first in my late 20’s, and if you’d have told me that my personal record (PR) would be achieved at 39 I would have thought you crazy! And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t planning on faster times to come. I know, I know, I sound a bit like “Uncle Rico” from Napoleon Dynamite, “I could throw this football over that mountain!” Or, I once asked someone who just turned 50 how they felt and they got a bit odd on me and told me all the things that they could still do to young folks, and they weren’t that nice! They had to do with certain body parts being

Friend's Cynthia and Jen reminded me that “40 is the new 20.” So does that mean I spend with reckless abandon, rack up credit card debt, consolidate and then start all over? Wait, doing that, guess it is the new 20!

Fraternity brother Eric said that it seems like yesterday that I was prank calling people and challenging them to a variety of sporting events, quite successfully I might add! That just reminded me that thanks to the days of caller ID and aggressive phone solicitors the days of innocently calling up a random number and challenging them to a ping pong game...and then watching them show up, are long gone.

But the best post of the day, I believe, goes to my cousin Keith who wrote: Happy Birthday Tony! The big four oooooh! You're in the shape of a guy half your age and have the hair of a guy twice your age." Nuff said, love that post.

So 40, yep, some of the stereotypes do come true. I just finished that section on Facebook posts and couldn't for the life of me remember what else I wanted to write, seriously! And when I started writing this I had no intention of writing up the Facebook posts. Thankfully, however, I did remember. What I was writing about, though, was my memory loss (how ironic?).

Quick back story. I was challenged by a good friend of mine to take a body fat test, the serious kind, the kind where you're weighed in a dunk tank. I've done a couple before, but my friend called me out. The loser had to take the winner out to lunch. That was simply the outward expression of an inner victory. The winner had bragging rights. My friend had a trainer working with him and he was working hard. I was pushing it as well and got my weight down to high school levels. Again, I've never felt better!

My parents do Halloween right. They buy full sized candy, none of this fun sized stuff. They send us the left overs. I pray for snow in Utah on Halloween because it means more full sized candy bars come my way. This year the care package arrived the first week of November full of bags of animal cookies, 3 foot long licorice ropes and bags of Famous Amos Chocolate Chip Cookies. I love these cookies. I ate a bag (or two) every Tuesday night for 2 years while in Grad School. I swear Amos was part of the reason I got my Master's Degree. Just knowing I would be downing a bag (or two) once a week was sometimes enough to get me to class.

I was two weeks from the body fat test. My friend was talking trash! His trainer was talking trash. I knew I could win...but what if I didn't? I went into serious diet-mode the final two weeks...the weeks with the cookies in house. Meanwhile my kids found the box from Grandma and Grandpa and they were making quick work of my cookies. So I did what any father would do who loved his family dearly, I took them and hid them! And that was the last I thought of the cookies.

The body fat test came and went (I won!). I started a week-long bender Saturday after the test. My friend's Staci and Melinda got me 40 full sized Kit Kat bars and I was working through those at a steady pace and then today, one of my daughters saw my article in the paper and asked me if I was “famous?”

“Famous?” I asked? “Famous Amos!” I don't think I said anything else to her but I quickly ran downstairs and found my stash and powered through a bag (or two). I guess the memory truly does go at 40, even the week or two leading up to 40!

So let me just say, 40 ain't so shabby! I've been bald for a decade. I'm in better shape now that I was in college. I have a hair that seriously grows out of the SIDE of my nose, so that's not so great, and I swear I take one of those ear hair clippers to my ears every week, but other than that I feel great!

One of my friends, Drew, now that I think about it, did post something about the exam I'm supposed to have at 40. I can't lie, I am scared of that one. I had another friend tell me that his Dr. said that “45 is the new 40” when it comes to checking the old prostate, so I think I'll cling very, very tightly to that saying.

My kids are great, my wife is hot, life is great. My wife bought a little sign that she put in the kitchen several years ago, it simply says, “It's all good.” I asked her one time why she was drawn to it and she said that she truly felt like when it all boils down to it, everything is indeed “all good!” So far I have to agree! Bring on 50! Well, actually that sounds pretty old!

Newsmessenger - Halloween Candy 101

With Halloween just around the corner, I thought it might be wise to address a topic that I am very, very passionate about. Candy. As a father of four living in a standard California cookie cutter neighborhood (granted, a very nice and tidy cookie cutter neighborhood, I don’t want to be accused of driving my home value down any more than it already is!) I stand to bring in quite a haul on Halloween night. And much like a Mafia Don, Big Tony is going to be sure to get a piece of the pie.

Thankfully this year, Halloween falls on a Saturday. To be honest, it doesn’t matter to me if it falls on a school night, I’m going to wet my beak, or get a taste of the action (pun intended) before the kids go to bed regardless so having them not have to pull out of a candy hangover at 7 AM is a bonus. As a veteran now of over a decade sending out my candy minions to do my dirty work, I have developed a sorting system that I’m happy to share with you.

First, all candy undergoes a standard safety inspection. I’m sure we’ve all heard horror stories of razor blades and the like being inserted into Nestle Crunch bars as well as Kit Kat’s and Snickers. And if you haven’t, well, now you have and you can thank me from your chocolate-induced coma later. I remove these “A-list” candies immediately from the kid’s bags and put them into a large Ziploc labeled “Dad” which I tell them is a trash bag. Trust me; these will definitely be disposed of.

Next we run a series of tests on the remaining candies. Tootsie Rolls are bent and squeezed to check for freshness and a Butterfinger or two is sacrificed right on the spot to check consistency, or more specifically, if these were left over from last year. If the kids get home early enough these go into the bowl to hand out to the neighborhood kids along with the black and orange colored taffy. I have a theory that those were made once back in the 50’s and we’re still working off of that initial batch. If we’re too late to hand them back out, they get put into the “eat only when desperate” bag.

You then take your Hershey’s Chocolate, M&M’s, Skittles, Nerds, Runts and Laffy Taffy and put those into an “B-list” pile. These will be in the immediate rotation, meaning they’ll be snacked upon throughout the day in small enough doses that the calories will never really “stick.” Yes, this is another one of my theories. M&M’s used to be put in the “Dad” bag but I took exception with them, or more specifically the packaging. I, for one, don’t find much “Fun” in a “Fun Size” bag that contains 7 peanut M&M’s. It takes me about 5 or 6 “Fun Size” bags to even start remotely having fun and by that time I have a pretty “Pathetic Size” pile of wrappers sitting in front of me.

Finally we divide up the “C-listers” such as the Bottle Caps, Milk Duds, Dots and Smarties amongst the kids. I’ll let them keep the Milky Way’s and Three Musketeers’ as well as the Hershey’s Kisses just so they look like they made out alright. Let me be perfectly clear, the contents of your piles may vary. I once met a girl who loved the Root Beer Bottle Caps and would have clearly put them on the “A-list.” She was wrong, but entitled to her opinion nonetheless.

When the kids were little they tired easily and often didn’t earn their keep. To compensate I learned the fine art of turning off the porch light to preserve what was left in our own candy bowl. But with age and a slowing metabolism my wife no longer wants any part of the Halloween haul so she started buying the yucky candy to hand out so that she wouldn’t be tempted. If you’re looking for quantity over quality, hit my house up right before bed time and I’ll empty the remainder of the bowl in your pillow case for an even half-hearted “Trick or Treat!”

Inevitably, though, too much of a good thing can indeed get old. We’ll hit the candy buffet hard for the first few days and eventually the thrill of the haul is gone. The Kit Kat’s lose a bit of their bite, the Snickers don’t quite satisfy and the Crunch bars aren’t so crunchy. Not to worry, though, the kid’s candy bags quickly disappear only to find their contents magically lining the bottom of their Christmas stockings, my minions, I mean my kids, none the wiser.

Newsmessenger - Just Like the Pioneers of Old

A couple of weeks ago my wife and I sat down to watch a movie. The one line description on the screen made it sound like a good, suspenseful drama, sure to have plenty of twists and turns. Fifteen minutes later we turned it off. A lady spun around on a bridge with a disfigured face and then all heck broke loose. We realized that we no longer enjoyed being scared as we had early in our marriage. Now, scary is the idea of what goes on at the check up I’m scheduled for in a couple of months when I hit the big 4-0. That’s an entirely different column. But little did we know that the movie was foreshadowing our own real-life thriller that would take place just a week later.

Imagine the horror of being on vacation with 4 young children and suddenly the lights in the pool go out well before the 9 PM shut off time! Don’t get me wrong, the hotel generators kicked in, the outside lights came back on and we were able to finish our swim but it got worse! On the way back to our room we had to take the stairs! And it didn’t stop there. Once in our room, we had to resort to watching movies on a battery powered DVD player. We had no idea how much battery life we had! Oh the horror! The kids were in mortal terror as they played their portable gaming devices wondering aloud if power would return in time to charge the devices when they went to bed.

And the kids weren't the only ones in a panic. My iPhone was down to a 42% charge, my laptop battery showed only one power bar. This was no time to lose my head. I was quick to assume the role of a calming voice. Luckily I remembered that my youngest daughter had brought a headlamp in her suitcase. She likes to stay up late and read. I downloaded a “flashlight” application on my phone that provided enough light to locate the headlamp. It was a gamble, downloading the application would suck precious battery life that we might need later to entertain ourselves with some YouTube videos of cats playing the piano. We called a quick family council.

“Kids,” I said. “We often read stories about the pioneers and the challenges that they went through many, many years ago. Well, tonight we're creating our own stories. Stories that your children, my grandchildren, will someday read and wonder how we ever managed. Yes, it's true, the refrigerator is quickly losing coolant, and if the power doesn't return, our bedtime snacks will consist of not entirely frozen M&M's and not freezing cold water, but we can do this.”

“Not to fear,” I continued. “Our toothbrushes are battery powered and, in a pinch, we can watch the movies and TV shows that we all have on our iPods. I knew what I had to promise next. “If the power doesn't return by morning, I will sacrifice and go sit in the car while my phone charges using the automobile adapter.”

My young son let out a sniffle. “Pa,” he asked. “Will we still be able to swim in the morning?” This was no time to lie, he needed the truth. “I hope so, son, I really hope so. But without power, our key cards might not get us into the pool.” One of my daughters, or perhaps it was my wife, let out a scream! “Wait, aren't the hot water heaters dependent on the power? And what about my curling iron?”

“Honey,” I said. “I'm going to assume the hot water heaters are gas, but we can't be sure. They might indeed be electric, and, if so, we'll make the best of it.” I needed to take the kids minds off their surroundings. I decided I would tell some scary stories by the light of my illuminated cell phone. Stories about music that needed to be rewound, dinners that took a long time to cook in the oven and popcorn that popped in specially designed machines. I told them of records, days without Velcro and the McRib. I was just starting into an explanation of a “Pet Rock” when we suddenly heard the sound of angels...the whir of the air conditioning. The lights and TV came on and noises were coming from all sides. I grabbed my family close and held them tight! “We made it,” I said. “For the last 15 minutes kids, we were indeed just like the pioneers.”

As the kids faded off to sleep I turned the TV on and just had to laugh as we stumbled upon the same movie we had turned off just a couple of short weeks ago. Only this time it was like watching a comedy after the horror that we had just been through.

Tony Overbay is a 16-year Lincoln resident and father of four. You can find more of his writings at www.tonyoverbay.com.