I've come to the conclusion that I don't like my brain. My mind? I like it quite a bit, but the hard drive where my mind lives and the motherboard that operates it are currently on my sh*t list. BIG TIME!

I didn't have as many seizures yesterday as I had on the previous two, which is always a good thing. Still, although there were fewer electrical misfiring episodes, they happened -- four times to be precise. As a result, I spent much of yesterday trying to determine exactly what had triggered the power surges this time. And the more I thought about it, the more clueless I became.

If turning 50 in 15 days were a big deal to me, I suppose that I could attribute the seizures to a belated midlife crisis since I never really had one in my thirties. Remember folks, a midlife crisis happens at the halfway mark of life and although some of us may want to be around when we're 100, the mid-point for most of us occurs around 35. Besides, Dante Alighieri already set the bar for us way back in the day -- with the midlife crisis that led him to make that famous trip to Hell:

"Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost."
(Inferno I.1-3)

But to be honest, turning 50 doesn't phase me in the least. I got over all that age trauma when I hit 30 so that by the time 40 rolled around, I was happy to be alive and didn't care how old I was anymore! Hitting the Golden Years, I've discovered, is actually something to look forward to.

With age comes privilege. We tend to make excuses for the embarrassing behavior of "older" folks because, well, they're old; their biological time clocks are running in reverse as they make their way toward a second childhood. Don't you remember the Sphinx's riddle from Oedipus?

What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three in the evening?

Man starts out on all fours in the crawling stage, learns to walk on two legs as he matures, and in old age uses on a cane for assistance, thus regressing or moving back to a period of reliance on others. Maybe when I'm 50, I can crank up the car radio when CCR's "Bad Moon Rising" comes on the oldies station and my daughter won't be embarrassed anymore. She can, after all, chalk up my rocking out while driving to old age instead of some pitiful attempt to be cool! But as interesting as all this is, it doesn't account for the seizures.

So if it's not worrying about old age, what has triggered these electrical surges in The Brain? Honestly, I can only say, "Beats me!" And the beat goes

on
and
on
and
on
and
on

Welcome to my world or as Alice Cooper would say, "Welcome to My Nightmare."