Josh Shear

I turn 33 years old today. And I think 33 is going to be a good year for me.

I didn't feel like 30 was a milestone year. And with ups and downs along the way, I think 32 was a good upswing.

I'm learning more about myself. I'm more conscious of what my body is telling me, and while I won't be reaching for my walker any time soon, I'm recognizing that I take longer to warm up, need to stretch more often, and wind up with more creaks and pops in the morning than I used to.

If Harry Chapin is a model – and he's as good as any other, I guess – 33 is the year you kind of stop kidding yourself (read all the way through that song; it's worth it).

Poets Percy Bysshe Shelley and John Keats were both dead before they turned 33, as were rockers Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Buddy Holly and Kurt Cobain. New York Giants great Tiki Barber had retired by 33, and both Mozart and Charlie Parker were in the last two years of their lives (Parker died at 34, Mozart at 35).

Those were all people who had great impacts on their professions, and for the most part, they had stopped affecting anything well before they were 33. I don't find that depressing so much as I see it a call to action.

So, here's to me, but here's to you, also. I plan to have a great year, but I can't do it alone. You're coming with me.

Cheers.

Photo by emmyboop, used under a Creative Commons 2.0 By Attribution license. And the song is, of course, by Cracker.