Pay no attention to the numbers. Put aside the calendar and remember to marginalize milestones dear friends if you want to live more happily ever after. Past regrets and future fears are accentuated when a significant anniversary draws near. I can see you nodding in agreement. 

A surefire way to avoid the uncomfortable feeling that arises when one faces getting older is to plunk down in front of the hypnotic computer screen for an eight hour marathon of video game galactic role play. It’s either that, a visit to the local watering hole, or a phone call to the local plastic surgery clinic for the earlier possible time for a little Botox on Thursday.

Well, I don’t play video games, especially the kind that has me connected to virtual competitors from places like Portland or Pago Pago. And the last time I set foot in a bar was back in 1987 (pre-cell phone) when I found myself in need of a payphone in search of a tow truck. 

Buddhists and those who practice the meditative arts believe strongly that the healthiest way to live is in “the now.” Focusing one’s energy and commitment in the present moment offers solace, contentment and a freedom from nasty worry, the kind that eats away at you. I, for one, thank the heavenly father for the gift of mindful awareness. For us creative types, accomplishment that occurs in our present zone is routinely exhilarating. 

Now, before I convince you that Richard Gere and I are golfing buddies or that this crowded consciousness of mine is always at maximum focus, I’ll confess that I’m much more human than Vulcan and quite happy for it.

It takes something rather dramatic to shake me off my stride and get me thinking about the big picture (no, not the new 46 inch HDTV attached to my den wall---that will be, however, the subject of a future column).

It was a confluence of time related events that happened just last week. The same day my daughter, who just yesterday it seemed was burping up formula on my lapel, begging for a new Barbie, or pining for a 6th grade boyfriend, yes the same day that sweet, adorable, fairy-tale little princess of a daughter of mine celebrated her 21st birthday, thus elevating her from minor to major status-- I received my first official welcome from the organization more powerful and far reaching than GM, The IRS, Disney and Google combined---the AARP.

Two jolts the very same day should cause distress. I am here to report that I certainly took note of the significance of the numbers 21 and “almost 50.” Imagine that, fifty years. I’ve been here doing my business for nearly half a century. That seems like an awfully long stretch. And I’m partly responsible for the life of a young adult who will soon complete her education and go on to vote, pay taxes and hopefully someday repopulate our species. What do I feel? Pride and gratitude mostly. I’m thankful that she has moved along so gracefully, a person I not only love like crazy, but like a whole lot. I am also grateful that as I approach the 50 benchmark, I’m not that much the worse for wear. The skin is relatively smooth, most of the hair is still where it should be, weight, blood pressure and the like all under control. There is the need to visit the restroom with a bit more consistency during the day and I could stand to lower my cholesterol a few digits. But despite the reminder from the AARP that I’m getting up there, I don’t really feel it.

Having lunch last week with an 87-year-old friend of mine confirmed the fact that getting older isn’t the same as feeling older. My friend Manny is more hip to news and pop culture than most people a quarter of his age. He travels often, works part-time, attends shows and the symphony, dines out at the finest restaurants and can rattle off as many jokes on as many subjects as the late Morey Amsterdam. If anyone out there is feeling bummed because you’re reaching another birthday, consider befriending someone in Manny’s weight class. Hanging with a guy like Manny is the perfect antidote to any old-age blues.

One more thing about milestones. I’m learning that just as soon as I reach one, I start to get excited for the next one. Let’s see, there’s my freshman son in high school who will be making college plans before you know it; walking my daughter done the aisle someday soon will be interesting (I’ll know doubt be ferklempt); and I ‘m looking forward to being a grandfather. Wait, wait, wait… hold on just a minute. Am I not the same guy who heralded the beauty a few lines ago of living in the present? 

Yes, and with good reason. Because we don’t know what lies ahead, none of us do. No one can say for certain who will be our next president or whether a team of perfect football players will be even more perfect and win it all at the Super Bowl. We New Englanders found that out the hard way this past week. Lesson learned --- being cocky doesn’t get you anywhere.

It is best to follow sage advice that your grandmother and her grandmother passed down. Take each day as it comes. The present is indeed a gift, one we should savor.

But if it does bug you just a little bit to be reminded of your mortality so often, simply delete those introductory e-mails with the heading, “WELCOME TO THE AARP!” before opening. You have all the time in the world to contemplate your nest egg, prostate, short-term memory, heating pads, retirement community living, dentures, hot water bottles, and early bird specials. Live for today dear friends.

Although I am looking forward to those discount tickets we soon-to-be fifty something types get to use at the local cinema.