Today, August 5, is my birthday.  I am officially 48 years old.  I am old enough to remember: Laugh-In, Viet Nam, Watergate, Nixon, Hippies, Sesame Street’s first season, The Electric Company’s first season, All in the Family as an original show (versus reruns), rotary phones, milk being delivered to the house, gas at under less than 50 cents per gallon, bell bottoms, perms, and many other things that came into being or existed in the late 60s and early 70s.

In the ensuing years after 1967, I remember that every birthday seemed like a major event.  10 was huge (hooray double digits in age!).  13 bigger (Bar Mitzvah year). 18 bigger still (off to college). 21 even bigger (can drink legally, thus opening up a lifetime of some questionable decisions).  25 big (almost 30).  30 huge! (hey, no fooling, you’re an adult now).  35 even bigger than that (hey, this adult thing is not wearing off).  40 much, much bigger (hey, you’re middle age).  45 much, much, much bigger (50 lurks).

And, now 48.  It’s almost 50.  It’s half way to 96.  It’s firmly in middle age.  No two ways about it.  But what does 48 really mean? What does it signify?

I don’t know.  Truth is, I feel exactly the same way I’ve felt since my twenties if not before.  Only difference now is I have some crow’s feet, gray hair, and a 4 year old to prove that I’ve been around for awhile.

What have I learned in 48 years?  Mostly I’ve learned that it takes a long time to realize how much you don’t know.  At 18 I thought I was really smart and knew a lot.  30 years later, I realize that as much as I thought I knew then, and as much as I’ve learned since, there’s so much more I don’t know and so many things I know about that I could learn to do better.

So, that’s what I’ve realized about turning 48 (and beyond).  It’s not about gifts and going out and partying.  It’s about going in – inside yourself and figuring out what you don’t know and working hard with the time you have left to make sure you do your damndest to go out and learn that stuff.

This year, I’m 48.  Next year I’ll be 49. The year after I’ll be 50.  The numbers themselves are meaningless.  The only thing that counts is whether I learn something along the way to make life better and more interesting for everyone (including myself).