Hitting the Big 50-0

Our 500th post!  Thanks, Dan, for keeping count, and happy 50-0!

Some ages you celebrate, some you shrug off,
some you lose count of, some you deny,
but 50 you hit

Like a bell of accomplishment
when you reach the finish line
and know you still have more run in you,

Like a fund-raising goal
when the money keeps coming in
after the bills are paid,

Like the morning temperature on either side of summer,
or the slugger’s home run count,
or the top of a hitting streak.

Some ages you reach, some you remember,
some you hold on to, some fly by,
but when you hit 50

It's like the state line you pass:
more than a mile marker, but
you honk your horn and keep going.

It’s that unavoidable pothole
that feels like it messed up your chassis,
but you’re none the worse for wear.

And it's the car you couldn't afford
when you were younger;
it’s a speed to exceed.

It’s the car that’s all your own,
bought and paid for,
after the kids have grown up
and mileage doesn’t matter anymore;

Some ages are like the cake you eat
or the pictures you take;
some ages are like fine wine, but 50 is the bottle itself,
something to keep on the mantle and stick a candle in.

Some ages you light all the candles for
and you still have the air to blow the candles out,
but 50 is the smoke you suck into your lungs,
part of an old habit you don’t want to shake.

Some ages feel like the happy birthday song,
but 50 is a top hit on the radio,
or it’s the high note in your favorite sing along song:
it hurts a little but you gotta sing it.

Some ages are for the ages, some for old times,
some you keep secret and some you only talk about afterwards,
But 50 you hit.