I’ve enjoyed being 48. No, really enjoyed it. Maybe, hopefully, it’s truly middle aged, I wouldn’t mind living till 96. Fit and healthy and going out watching the Tiges or the cricket while patting a cat and chewing a ripe raspberry. Having bodysurfed.
As a kid, 48 Crash was always my favourite Suzi Quatro song; everyone else seemed to like the Rocky Horror style carnival of DevilGate Drive. Some of you cool kids will probably say you liked “Can the Can”, and that would be fine by me. 48 Crash, that crazy chorus, smash bash 48 crash.
Anyway, I made it here. And then I started to think about what comes next. And it hit me. 48 has the beautiful, simple integer thing happening. first digit half the second. look back, didn’t you enjoy 12, 24, 36? great years, great numbers.
you better enjoy it. it’s like Halley’s Comet. blink, gone. the next one to aim for is 510! then 612. and on and on.
no, better to enjoy 48, and then crash. silk sash bash. like a lightning flash. as Lene Lovich would say, oooh oooh, oooh oooh, my lucky number’s 48.