At the Turn

Since my parents turned 70 last year, and Lauren recently turned 20, it stands to reason I must be turning 50.
It would appear the math adds up for this accountant. Or does it?

Golfers often utter the phrase “at the turn” to denote the completion of the first nine holes while getting ready to resume play on the “back nine." I guess my time has come to step up to the tee box on number 10 and let it rip. Admittedly, my swing has slowed and my accuracy at times erratic, but I try to keep advancing the ball, no longer obsessively concerned with the final posted score, but enjoying and living in the moment of the competition among friends.

Advancing your ball, while continuing to move forward on a golf course that was designed to challenge and frustrate you at the same time, is the key to the game of golf as well as the game of life. I’m still trying to figure out which club I should choose next. I’m also trying to determine the best way to play the next hole. Navigating through golf courses and personal matters will force you to consider these types of choices.

So, here I sit—at the turn.

My score for the front nine holes is in the record books. Nothing can change those results. The good thing is all those mistakes, question marks and second guesses from the first 50 years are in the past. With a new nine holes in front of me lies a clean slate, a second chance and a new perspective. And that’s a good thing!

Am I wiser? I would like to say I am wiser, but I may get some serious pushback from my wife on that one. Am I healthier? While I try and "hit the gym" most workdays, probably not—although I was able to keep up with my 20-year-old daughter on the slopes of Camelback recently, so that could be viewed as a good thing. Am I richer? In terms of my bank account and other financial benchmarks in this recession, probably not—although in terms of family, friends and the moments experienced with both, most definitely!

I guess the accountant in me can never relinquish the task of making lists and setting goals. It is here when that old adage pops into my mind: no risk, no reward. The same can be said of moments out on the links. Do I aggressively try and clear the water hazard, potentially reducing my score, or do I conservatively lay up and make the smart decision, waiting for another opportunity later in the match to lower my overall score? Keep in mind—the remaining holes are decreasing with every hole previously played. While I feel my career objectives will be changing in the next decade, when do I reach for my uncertain pitching wedge instead of my trusty putter?

Meanwhile, I’m still praying there is enough time left for a few more adventures to be experienced. I hope those future moments are filled with more days of Hawaiian shirts and swimsuits than dress shirts and pinstriped suits. Only time will tell.

Wishing for a few more downhill ski runs with Lauren and cross-country trails explored with Marie, visiting another island or two in the Caribbean in our retirement years, many more days down the Shore surrounded by family and friends, quiet talks and long walks with Marie, hopefully one more ski trip out West with my parents, Indian Springs golf, Flyers games and Christmas traditions to pass along to the grandchildren, and witnessing and photographing many more sunrises and sunsets, as well as quiet nights of takeout and movies with just me and Marie. A few more moments of things I enjoy doing surrounded by loved ones. That’s what I hope the next 50 years affords me.

And of course, there’s that special moment I promised my daughter with friends and family present: She and I dancing to the Jimmy Buffett song entitled “Little Miss Magic” on her wedding day.

As I enter my sixth decade, I continue to be amazed at how blessed I’ve been to this point. Thank you to my guardian angels who keep constant watch over this overzealous, often "act first, think later," now 50-year-old perennial teenager.

Where we go from here and how we get there, I really have no clue. But I do have a list of possible options and a bunch of Plan Bs. Do you wanna hear them?

I can’t promise I will act my age, but this could be the start of something really special. While the sun remains overhead, it is ever so slightly starting to set. We’re on the back nine now. Like at the top of a rollercoaster—here we go!