Turning 15,000 Days Old

A milestone worth celebrating 🎈

I’ve never celebrated a birthday with a significant soiree. Not since I was in single figures, or maybe I was ten or eleven? I don’t know exactly, but it was long ago.

In Australia, 18th parties are popular. That number means being able to legally drink alcohol and drive a car. A deadly duo for boys / newly anointed men that think they’re bulletproof. (Maybe they should think about staggering those two privileges.)

I attended plenty of these while completing year 12, which is awkward timing for the studious teens trying to plan their future. I wasn’t one of them, so went along guilt free and without a worry in the world. It’s worth mentioning, I was only seventeen, yet the beers still flowed. Seems the underage drinking law was treated more like a guideline. Anyway, I turned 18 the next year and took a pass on throwing my own bash.

The next rite of partying passage comes a few short years later, for many, when turning 21. I moved interstate a week before I ticked over to this arbitrary-in-Australia number. I get the relevance for Americans, and certain other nationalities, but it comes with no obvious entitlements or preferential rights here.

Needless to say, I didn’t have a 21st either. Nor did I regret it. I’m not a big fuss kind of guy. Even still, by the time I was in my mid-twenties, I figured it would be nice to give a little back over the bar and put on a bash of my own. But when and what?

Ever the contrarian, I didn’t want to make it a thirtieth. At that stage, I wasn’t welcoming leaving my twenties. So, I floated the idea of something a little sooner, and far more original - celebrating my 10,000th day.

For those that don’t know, you clock up 10,000 days when you’re 27 years, 4 months and 23 days old. It’s a real sweet spot. But long story short, I lost my nerve, and it didn’t get off the ground.

A couple of years later, turning thirty came and went without much fanfare, and forty was even more lowkey. Time not exactly flying by, but the milestones being marked off in an orderly fashion. That brought me to the next big moment I felt might be worth making some sort of deal about… 15,000 days alive.

I didn’t go all out, but I did do something. An afternoon of catching up with my three fellow Wednesday Wafflers, over beers, pub crawling our way through the suburbs near where I now live. I loved it.

My first 15,000 unwrapped 💫

I’m 15,000 days old and I have zero children, one grand parent and two university degrees.

I’ve had three family dogs, three cars, and wrote a movie David Stratton gave three stars. (Many less equipped judges gave it a couple less…)

I’ve broken four bones and am on my fourth career.

I have been a groomsman five times and had sixish serious relationships.

I average seven to eight hours sleep.

I’ve visited 11 countries and had 12 colonoscopies.

I have 21 uncles and aunties and have been blessed with 25 best friends.

I have 33 first cousins, have celebrated 41 birthdays, and attended 70 psych sessions to combat the hundreds of hours lost to OCD rituals and too many irrational thoughts to count.

I’ve completed approximately 500 Pilates workouts. Been to the gym over 3,000 times. Had 5,000 plus cups of green tea. And averaged about 7,000 steps for twenty something years.

I am 15,000 days old and really only know one thing – the best is yet to come.

ZP / NpG

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