Six months from today I will turn 30 years old. It’s a milestone birthday, and I’ve decided to commemorate it by writing about it (hopefully on a consistent basis). As my wife Jessie will tell you, I’ve been obsessing over turning 30 pretty much since the day I turned 29.
Those who know me shouldn’t be surprised at my making a big to-do about turning 30. I’m all about memorable moments—a special sports highlight, the first time I saw a particular band in concert, or a pivotal match from WrestleMania—and 30 seems symbolic to me of a new phase of adulthood.
I am very aware of the fact that I am already, today, older than both of my parents were when I was born. Even if it’s not right at 30, this will (God willing) be the decade when I start a family. As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t get any bigger than that. It’s awesome, and it’s awfully intimidating. My parents set a hell of a standard to live up to.