Well, in a few minutes the clock strikes twelve and I will strike fifty. This one has me going a bit. It didn't really phase me to turn thirty. Actually, I had just returned to college to complete my degree in architecture at Ohio State. So I was associating with kids ten years my junior. I still had most of my hair, which was brown, pulled back into an awful pony tail. Yikes!!! What was I thinking. Maybe that I was going to be an architect someday and I was too cool for school. Much has changed in the last twenty years.
I didn't even mind turning forty. It seemed so natural. Kind of like falling off a log. It was easy. I even coerced my good friend and boss Carole Olshavsky, FAIA, to nominate me for Columbus Business First's Forty Under 40 Award, which they actually gave me. A year and a half earlier, I had applied for, interviewed, and been appointed to a seat on my city council. Which made me think I was hot stuff. I actually waited until I turned 40 to announce my candidacy to retain my seat. I thought it would look better if I seemed a bit older. By this time, my forehead had extended back to where I couldn't see it in the mirror anymore. The faint bridge of folicles had faded and the brown strands were losing out to the silver ones.
I spent way too much time being serious and scowling. I tried to smile and look friendly in my campaign photo. All this was happening on the outside. Inside, I was worried that someone would discover that this little boy was in way over his head. Passing laws, fees, and taxes upon his fellow citizens that had a real impact on their lives and pocketbooks. I worked very hard to prepare for each meeting and tried to ask meaningful questions. I think I did ok. After winning the race in my 40th year, I ended up tied for the last of three seats four years later. After the other guy ended up one vote ahead after overseas absentee ballots were counted, I decided to step aside. I cherish every moment of the experience, but I had had enough.
What's hitting me hard this year is the knowledge that my maternal grandfather, Dr. Wells M. Wilson, passed away at 49. For the last ten or more years, I've tried to dismiss this notion that I didn't have much time to leave my mark. In fact, it was knowing that he was president of the Logan Elm School Board at the time of his death that may have triggered my foray into politics. He and my paternal grandfather, Judson J. Beougher, and my great uncle, Frank Graves, served on the school board together. I am extremely proud whenever I visit the State or Columbus libraries and look up their names and mine resting on the same shelf in the Secretary of State's collection of public officials.
My dad always tells me that I look just like my grandfather, especially his body type. This usually happens during the holidays, after I've consumed 5,000 calories of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie. He warns me that I'd better start taking better care of myself. My wife worries about me too. I work too much and allow the stress of the office to follow me around like a big red caboose on the train of my life. There's a young man in our office that's fond of eating his Hungry Man dinners for lunch. I envy him a bit as I slide my frozen Lean Cuisinne or Weight Watchers lunch entree into the microwave. But I know it's for the best, and I try not to succomb to the attration of midnight carb loading that erases all the good that it did.
I spent this week trying to figure out if I should buy more life insurance, schedule a colonoscopy, or pay the invoice that came with my obligatory AARP card in the mail. I ended up doing none of those things. There will be time to visit the doctor, and get probed and prodded. The last time I endured the full physical was right after I turned 40. The memory still haunts me a bit. I did take care of one piece of business and renewed my license plate registration. That's a chore I need to do every year, so it made this milestone seem a bit like every other year. Since I didn't wait until the weekend, there wasn't even a line at the BMV. That's something I find I dislike most as I get a little older. Waiting in line, holding for a representative on the phone, time is just too precious.
My family hasn't really celebrated my birthday as a separate event for the last sixteen years. I've been sharing it with my son, Nate, who celebrates his eight days before mine. My father in law also has a birthday between ours, so a joint party is the norm. This year, I suggested to my wife that I wanted to do something more. So she reserved a couple of large tables at the Buckeye Hall of Fame Grill at Grandview Yard, 900 Goodale Avenue in the Grandview Heights area of the Greater Columbus Metropolitan Area. I sent out a note earlier this week via Hootsuite to my Twitter, Facebook and LinkedIn accounts. I also mentioned it to my fellow CSI, AIA, and Center for Architecture Board members.
If you're close enough to stop in and say "hello," please feel free. We plan to be there between 5:00 and 8:00 p.m. I'm not sure if anyone will show up. If not, I'm not going to be concerned. But I hope a few of you do. I'm going to sit back and relax, enjoy an adult beverage or two, and try to avoid the chicken wings. If you're wondering why that location, it's to commemorate where I was born. You see, I'm a third generation Buckeye graduate. Both of my granfathers matriculated from Ohio State in 1935 and '36. My dad attended OSU and my mom graduated in December 1960, when Jerry Lucas, Bobby Knight, and John Havlicek ruled the courts of the Big Ten (and there were only ten). I was born at University Hospital just a few months after she graduated.
Mom told me once that at my fourth birthday party, I climbed up onto my chair, and thanked everyone for coming. That may have been the beginning of my political career. I will try to refrain from making any speeches tonight, but you probably can't restrain me from expressing an opinion or two. I look forward to greeting you. See you soon!
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