“Well the secret of life is enjoying the passage of time.
Any fool can do it,
There ain’t nothin’ to it.
Nobody knows how we got to the top of the hill.
But since we’re on our way down,
We might as well enjoy the ride.”

— James Taylor

I was contemplating the secret of life as I was enjoying the passage of cars on 13 Mile Road, sitting perched on my basketball under the shade of a tree at the HS playground. I kept wishing someone would show up to play, but nobody did. Since there was no one else around, it seemed like a good time to ponder the meaning of my existence and the circumference of my bellybutton. The fact that it was one day before my 53rd birthday gave it a little added meaning.

It has certainly been a long strange trip to where I am today. Have I changed? Oh yeah. I look back on the person I was when my wife first met me during our sophomore year at UD and I seriously wonder what the hell she saw in me. I was not a really ‘together’ person to use the vernacular of the time.

Things that seemed so important back then have been placed in their proper context. Stuff like whether the Red Sox, the Celtics or the Flyers won, lost or got rained out used to mean so much to me, but now I can take it in stride. I think having kids does that to you. Holding each of my daughters for the very first time instantly taught me, from that day forward, what really mattered and why God saw fit to put my sorry butt on this planet. They are much older now, but every day I get reaffirmation of these two truths.

On the down side, they say time heals all wounds. No, it doesn’t. It might generate some scar tissue, but there’s always a chance that the wound can get reopened and hurt all over again. I prefer the saying ‘time wounds all heels’. I don’t normally wish anyone ill, but it always provides me with a quiet sense of satisfaction when someone who richly deserves to get it, does.

Talk about the passage of time, take a guy like James Taylor. Nowadays he’s America’s troubadour. When I was first introduced to his music in 1968 by my friend Penguin from across hall at UH, JT was a recovering heroin addict from Massachusetts who had just been released from an insane asylum. A lovely ride, indeed, James.

I don’t know about you, but I definitely have a ‘soundtrack’ to my life-songs that have tremendous meaning and importance to me. When I hear one of them, I remember where I was in time when the tune was popular, where I was living, what I was doing. A few bars of a favorite song sends me right into Mr. Peabody’s wayback machine. Speaking of the passage of time, here’s one song that nails it for me:

“Time
Flowing like a river.
Time
Beckoning me.
Who knows when we shall meet again, if ever?
But time keeps flowing like a river, to the sea, to the sea
‘Til it’s gone forever, gone forever
Gone forever more.”

— Alan Parsons

So what have I learned in my 52 years and 364 days? Don’t take anything for granted. Do what you say and say what you mean. Treat people right. Be careful what you wish for, you just might just get it.

Speaking of which, I was snapped back into reality at the playground by the sound of a car pulling into the lot. It was a guy I had played one-on-one with before. He doesn’t pass the ‘look test’ as a hoopster, but he hustles, he can shoot and is probably half my age. He barely warmed up and I was ready to go, having been there for about an hour all by myself. We decided to play 21. It was 16-0 before he knew what hit him. In the 2nd game, he started hand checking me rather aggressively — I ended up telling him that I would shoot a helluva lot better if his hand wasn’t on my back. He won that one. I decided to fight fire with fire and got aggressive on offense and took the ball to the rack. That opened up my outside game and I won going away. Just then, 3 HS kids pulled up and that gave me the ideal chance to quit while I was ahead and still breathing!

Sign me up for another 53 years!