Thoughts on 40

So the clock ticked round about three hours ago and that's it; I'm 40.

If we're going to be exact about it I was born at either ten to eight am, or ten past eight pm. Mum can't remember which and Dad wasn't there (birth then was not a spectator sport). This lack of knowledge drives astrologers barmy – how could I not know?

Ultimately it doesn't matter much as far as I can see. I'm not astrologically minded, and I measure a birthday from when the clock ticks over on midnight. So here I sit, with a glass of very good Scotch on the side table, Richard Thompson playing in the background and the knowledge that I'm now in the foothills of my forties.

In a way yesterday was worse. There was the anticipation of the shift, the knowledge that a chapter of my life in age terms is gone forever and a lingering fear that I've had the majority of my life. Thankfully those feelings are gone. Instead I'm left with a kind of wonder – I've made it this far, lived through amazing things and there's a lot more left to come.

On the first point there is a wonder that I'm here at all – I've taken some hideous chances over the years. When I wasn't even into double figures agewise I climbed the North Sands wall (centre left)in Salcombe armed with nothing more than a pair of swimming trunks and while it wasn't as tough as I later made out one missed handhold and I'd have been another statistic. A few years later I fractured my skull against a car windscreen in an accident that, if the nurse driving had been going a few miles an hour faster, would have done me in.

I remember sailing across the English Channel at 17 in a force ten gale, P and I the only ones left to cope after the rest of the crew were incapacitated due to sea sickness, and mistiming a wave. The 29 foot boat was slammed over and we lay there, harnessed in, with the sea running over our faces and knowing that if it didn't right itself we had no chance of survival. Bless the invention of flotation tanks.

In more prosaic terms I paid Philip Morris for the 'privilege' of filling my lungs with tar for over 20 years, drank enough to make my liver cry uncle and have enjoyed driving cars at reckless speeds – hitting 144mph on an A road and feeling the tires start to slip going into a corner was one to remember. Would I do these things again given the opportunity? I have my doubts, but then again if I was on my own the temptation would be to push it. Precious as life is adrenaline is a very pleasurable thing and what's the point in always playing it safe and I'm still tempted by BASE jumping. But on the day to day things I've calmed down - no more smoking, moderate drinking and getting the salad and sushi habit. I blame California.

As for the wonder of the last 40 years it's been a wild ride and I wouldn't have missed it. Look at how far we've come as a species. Barely a month after my birth mankind slipped the surly bounds of earth and touched down on the first non-terrestrial surface. The next month nearly half a million people got together in a field at Woodstock and proved we can live together without killing each other, provided someone is around to airlift in food and water :)

Since then we've learnt how to manipulate the most basic atoms of our universe (albeit imperfectly so far), we've created computers capable of augmenting our understanding of the world beyond the dreams of past generations, we have the ability to feed, cloth and educate the world if only we'd get motivated and everyone with a computer – both sane and otherwise - can now communicate with each other via the internet, thus bypassing the whole dead tree/postman deal.

On a personal note I've experienced things that would astound my ancestors. My mother and father set out to make a new life in Africa before I was born; a massive step in those days and one that few dared to undertake. They sailed to the new continent, but in the time it took them to leave the English Channel I've taken flights to next century's superpower China, the deserts and social museum pieces in the Middle East, snowmobiled across the Arctic Circle in Scandinavia and now made a new home in the United States. I'd love to sit down with my paternal ancestor, an 18th century Inverness blacksmith, and tell him about it.

As for the future the speed of change is only accelerating. We are conquering illnesses left, right and centre; although it would help if we adopted lifestyles that made those cures less necessary. We can look forward to wetware – computers implanted within us to add knowledge and lifespan. With luck we'll be able to manipulate natural forces like the weather to mitigate the dangers of living on something so unstable as a planet and we might even free ourselves from the bounds of religious dogma - to be good to each other because it's the right thing to do, rather than for fear of a god – although I fear I might not see that happy day in my lifetime.

But there will be plenty to experience nevertheless. There's such wonder in the world – and it's the little things never stop to surprise me. Take today for instance – two calls that made me think. A long work session saw me in the office until late in the evening and the phone started to ring. I didn't recognise the number but it turned out to be a friend who I went to school with 24 years ago, but have met once since. He's in the Bay Area too and after 30 minutes catching up we're meeting next month. Strange how our past can come back just like that.

Then a chance call. I'd stopped off at Safeway to pick up some salad fixings, bananas for breakfast and the aforementioned Scotch (for which I was screwed mightily on price but quality is seldom cheap). I packed my purchases into my backpack and the pressure must have activated my phone and called my sister's partner. This caused her to call me; B has reserves I don't and is up at 6:30 every morning – a time where I'm never concious unless I haven't gone to bed yet or have a really important flight the next morning.

My sister is five years older than me, so she's gone through all this before. She's the saner one of us two and I trust her advice implicitly. It isn't something to freak out about she said, things don't change, you carry on doing what you do and life goes on. Personally I'm hoping for another 40 years to come. Time will tell.

PS The rest of the blog will be updated as soon as I get it sorted. Patience is a virtue .