Well, here it is, another birthday come and gone. I don't feel 39, that's for sure. Yet, here I stand on the precipace of 40, looking into the great chasm of all that means. What does it mean? Maybe nothing. I think it's all relative. I'm a firm believer in "you're only as old as you feel", and I feel like a big, dumb kid. So there you have it; no progress at all in the 'growing up' department. Hell, I still love all that rock music the kids are listening to. And I haven't gotten even slightly senile yet. Now where are my pants...?