Disclosure: I was compensated by BikeBandit in exchange for this blog post.
It’s a milestone. Not of the stratosphere of 50, where Over the Hill decorations and black balloons lurk. My kids have rounded up to 50 for my age since I was 40. At 16, a man yearns to be 18. At 18, 21 becomes the benchmark. No man yearns or benchmarks for 45.
What does a man on the precipice of a non-milestone milestone age do?
Especially if he hasn’t the gumption – or American Express card – for a full-on midlife crisis? He dreams. Not just of Dana Perino and Hope Solo, but of a personal sea change. Of a regimen of situps and planks, early-morning disc golf, keeping up with his kids.
He imagines choosing the garden salad over the Caesar salad, rather than expect a medal and keys to the city for even having picked the Caesar salad over a can of Pringles. (I did this today.)
He measures his growth and worth by the benefits he feels from meditation, from drinking more water, from closing a laptop when a beautiful girl with half his DNA graces him with his presence. He embraces a new style, one less suave and more … distinguished.
Rather than pine for youth he exudes a comfort level in his less pliable skin, a pride in gray beard hair and a noticed decrease in the ability to get after it.
He also hopes for presents. Not ties and yard equipment, usually. Bad-ass stuff. Stuff that speaks for a man on his plan, not on the lamb from his encroaching mortality. Stuff that’s edgy, but not too edgy. Like leather driving gloves or a shaving brush thingy.
Here are a few stellar suggestions. For the man in your life. Or, your favorite blogger guy.
A leather jacket
I sit at soccer training for Marie, on a clear, 50-degree night, to write a post with chilly hands. I’m ion a hand-me-down pullover from my brother-in-law if you’re wondering about my cool status. (Not sure who to blame for the grease spot under the zipper.)
[BikeBandit also offers motorcycle apparel for the seriously cool. Not just the aspiring.]
The James Bond-esque suitcase
I’m a jet-setter if you consider one trip to Cancun for work annually, and drives to towns such as High Point, Lancaster, and Swannanoa, jet-setting. Hey, the Super Bowl’s played just once a year.
The Carry-On from Away Travel is unbreakable (would have come in handy this one time.) It has a compartment for my shoes, for Imelda Marcos’ sake. And it has a built-in charger so I can keep the $20 Android and new-ish work laptop charged up for blogging.
And fantasy football. And Elizabeth Banks research.
A bad-hombre watch
I’ve spent a lifetime spinning from $2 Walmart watches to nicer models I received for Christmas or my birthday. I always managed to keep the plastic cheapos pristine, and deftly rub the face of a higher-brow watch on the nearest brick wall.
I’d promise to take better care of a new one now. The G-Shock watch is so cool they call it a timepiece, not a watch. It’s like pronouncing “vace” as VOZZ instead of VACE – only far less worthy of getting smacked in the jaw for pretentiousness.
What do you think? Which of these would make the best gift for me? Guys, what tops your wish list? Ladies, what are you getting your dudes? (Don’t worry, they don’t read this blog.)