I didn’t hit forty. Forty hit me.
Surely this has been used.
July 9, 2014 by at 9:12 pm
I didn’t hit forty. Forty hit me.
I didn’t hit forty. Forty hit me.
A nod to Kierkegaard and Walker Percy: existentialist tomfoolery, political satire, literary homage, word mongering, a year-round summer reading club, Dylanesque music bits, apocalyptic marianism, poetry, fiction, meta-porn, a prisoner work-release program.
Søren Kierkegaard
Walker Percy
Bob Dylan
Literature & History
Letters from an American
Beau of the Fifth Column
This American Life
The Writer’s Almanac
San Diego Reader
The Stranger
The Inlander
Adoremus
Charlotte was Both
The Onion
From Empty Hands
Ellen Finnigan
America
Commonweal
First Things
National Review
The New Republic
All Manner of Thing
Gerasene Writers Conference
Scrutinies
DarwinCatholic
Catholic and Enjoying It
Bad Catholic
Universalis
Is My Phylactery Showing?
Quotidian Quintilian
En pocas palabras
William Wilson, Guitarist Extraordinaire
Signposts in a Strange Land
Ben Hatke
Daniel Mitsui
Dappled Things
The Fine Delight
Gene Luen Yang
Wiseblood Books
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I’m not sure even Forty would hit that.
“If dirges and planned lamentations could put off death,
Men would be singing for ever…” – Sophocles (Creon to Antigone)
Surely this has been used.
Ladies and gentlemen: let’s have a very warm welcome for If Dirges and the Planned Lamentations!
My dear friend Ernie Grimm has never shared my fear of death. Quite the opposite; there are times when he muses on how great it’s gonna be (provided he makes the cut, of course). So on his most recent birthday, I wrote him this toast:
Mrs. Grimm has troubled sleep
She dreams that Death has come to reap
her man, who just hit forty-three
But Ernie’s sleep is trouble-free
He grins and dreams of sweet release
When he can finally rest in peace
So here’s to Ernie – lucky him
Who finds the Reaper not so Grimm
INSERT TRITE BUT INEVITABLE REQUEST FOR MORE COWBELL