How long a minute is, depends on which side of the bathroom door you’re on. ~Zall’s Second Law

Maybe it’s recently turning 40….

Someone tweeted about listening to Paradise City by Guns N Roses, which was released 23 yrs ago, yet I can remember listening to that album like it was yesterday. When I was first getting into music as a teen, groups like the Beatles, The Doors and other 60′s-era groups were “old” and had broken up before I was born.  Yet at the time, that was only 15 or so years prior.  Just think, the 16th anniversary of Kurt Cobain committing suicide, and the subsequent break-up of Nirvana, was 16 years ago this week.

When I was a kid, I was a competitive BMX racer.  One Saturday, prior to a national event being held at my home track, my dad took me and a friend to the track for some practice time.  We climbed the fence and spent some time working on lines through turns, the best approach for some jumps, etc.  At one point my dad thought it would be a good idea if he grabbed my bike and rode a lap.  Without a helmet, of course.  He hits the first jump and flips right over, landing on his face and knocking himself unconscious.  Even worse, he was wearing glasses, which shattered on impact and ripped the right side of his face to pieces.  My friend ran for help while I tried to comfort my hysterical sister and keep my dad from aspirating blood.  An ambulance arrived, he was rushed to the hospital and 5 hr of plastic surgery and about 400 stitches later, his face was repaired, though swollen like a pumpkin.

My parents where separated at the time and one of my moms first responses was “what the hell is a grown man his age doing riding a bike like that”

My dad was 40 at the time.  I’m 40 now.  Would mom have similar thoughts if I had an accident on my bike?  Why shouldn’t a 40 yr old still experience the joy of playing like a kid, even if there is a risk of injury?  I wonder if my mom even realizes that I’ve reached the age my dad was when he had that accident and almost died (there was a significant amount of blood loss).

A few weeks ago a colleague of mine wrote a letter of recommendation of my behalf for something.  He came to my office and remarked “I’ve known you for 13 years? That doesn’t seem right”  We thought about it and yes, we’ve been working together on and off since 1997.  My memories of working for him as his research assistant feels like yesterday.

Last fall I was at a conference and talking with my old adviser from my masters degree days. I asked how his boys were doing and he mentioned that his youngest would be graduating high school this year.  Excuse me? The kid who was in diapers when I first met him?

Last June I reunited with some old friends, brought together because of the untimely death of a mutual friend.  I realized that one of those friends is the oldest friend I’ve ever had- our respective parents started attending the same church when she and I were 7 yrs old and we were Sunday School classmates.  At 40 yrs old, it’s almost inconceivable that I’ve known a friend for 33 years!

I’m not really sure what the point of this post is, other than some general musing about the passage of time.  Am I the only one who feels this way?  Anyone else have similar thoughts on the passage of time?