Musings On a Mid-Life Crisis:
I’m nearing 50 years old. My skin is getting old, cracked and weary-looking. My joints ache more often. My various components are getting wonky. Many of my peers both of my generation and older are gone. And I’m getting existential.
I myself was never that outstanding even in my youth. I am just a run-of-the-mill specimen who resembles thousands of others and am often confused for one of them. I was never going to be that iconic figure, the focus of attention and photos and periodic celebrations of my existence.
Not than I’m not appreciated by those closest to me. They care about me and don’t want me to fail. Especially the folks at ENR. They want me to stay functional. They invest in me what they can.
There are many others like me. Thousands in the U.S. alone. We are not remarkable individuals alone, but all together as Americans, we matter. We deserve appreciation and attention.
You may not care much about me in general, but if I just randomly collapse one day, you will.
I am one of the thousands of bread-and-butter bridges in the U.S. I matter.
