<!--Paul Lane--><table width="234" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" background="http://static.cnhi.zope.net/flashpromo/niagaragazette/images/byline_234x60.jpg" height="60"><tr><td><div align="center"><font size="3" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">By Paul Lane</font><font face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><br /></font><font size="1" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><a href="mailto:lanep@gnnewspaper.com">lanep@gnnewspaper.com<br /></a></font><font size="1" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><a href="http://www.niagara-gazette.com/blogs">Click for Blog</a></font></div></td></tr></table>
Aside from birthdays, new year’s celebrations are about the only time that I ever reflect at all about age.
As we settle into the second decade of the 21st century, the passage of the previous 10 years — well, where did they go?
At this time a decade ago, I was about to return for my final semester at Syracuse University. I figured that the world was mine and that, as a budding newspaper reporter, I would make a big splash once I began digging into those deep, dark secrets of the world.
I couldn’t contemplate the thought of having a girlfriend; look at me, who’d want me? The Internet was just something on the computer that let me send e-mail; who knew it would cripple my future industry?
As I began working my way up the ranks, a funny thing happened: I fell in love. She married me in 2004, and three years later we had a daughter; two years later, her baby brother joined her.
With the ’00s (aughts?) behind us and the ’10s under way, we have a mortgage, car payments, a tight household budget and nightly bathtimes.
Welcome to adulthood. Not just the sort of adulthood that lets you buy alcohol, mind you. We’re talking full-fledged, “I don’t fit in at the bars anymore” adulthood.
There’s no fighting it, so I’ve tried to make the most of aging. I still play video games at home, take the occasional trip to see the Orange play basketball and run around with the kids until I’m dizzy.
But I now grasp what “they” were taking about as I grew up, how fast life passes by. While I can still remember my friend driving his car around the SU quad the day before graduation like it was yesterday, it was actually more like 3,500 yesterdays ago.
While I still recall how absurd I thought it was to have to buy $9 socks for my tux on my wedding day like it was yesterday, it was actually 2,000 yesterdays.
I still grin when I remember the births of our children like they occurred yesterday, but they joined us about 1,000 yesterdays and 358 yesterdays ago.
The only constant is change. That change can be good (preparing for my son’s first birthday next week), bad (the hair that recedes from the top of my head seems to settle in my nostrils) or, um, other (where I used to contentedly watch TV shows a decade ago, I can now hardly make it through a segment without wanting to Google one of the actors).
Father Time is the undefeated champion, and he’ll always retain the belt. So the best you can do is not try to fight him, look forward and cherish as many yesterdays as you can.
Because, before you know it, another decade is going to be gone. And with it will go another 10 years’ worth of your hairline.
Contact Paul Laneat 693-1000, ext. 116,or paul.lane@tonawanda-news.com.
