Sometimes, no matter how optimistic and patient you are, you hit points of frustration that can test your strongest convictions.
For many people, it seems to be milestones. When I was younger, they were things I looked forward to and rushed toward: to be 13 and a teenager, 16 and a driver, 18 and drink my first legal beer or wine (times – and laws – have changed), 21 and hard liquor. After that, age-wise for me anyway, it’s been rather uneventful. Oh, there was 40 – I remember that birthday well only because I awoke that day and, realizing I had hit the end of another decade, thought, “Wow, I never thought I’d make it this long.”
But I remember watching with some great amusement years ago during my first newspaper job when a co-worker who had about five years or so on me approached his 30th birthday. I apparently trailed him just enough to not quite grasp the whole “Don’t trust anyone older than 30” thing that was so popular in the 1960s and early '70s.
