“90 is the new 70.” “70 is the new 50.” “80 is for Brady.”

So, what does that make 40?

I turn 40 this week – something that was once a lifelong goal. My favorite show is Cheers and my favorite band is The Beach Boys; I’ve been waiting to be 40 since I was five.

But I think a big reason for that is thinking back to my dad turning 40. That meant something different in '80s New England. When you turned 40, you bought a house, wore boat shoes to barbecues, and had a mustache.

Now, the average age of home ownership (according to a friend in finance) is 48. Only tourists wear boat shoes. And even famed sportswriter Bob Ryan finally shaved off his mustache.

Like a growing number of my contemporaries, I am also divorced, there are very few surefire career paths, and flying out of Logan to do business has been replaced by Zooming from your couch.

Does this mean I’m gonna have to wait to be an old New Englander? Will I have to wait 10 more years to sit with five of my friends and loudly compare newspapers inside a Dunkin?

Do I have to hit triple-digits to call into sports radio and say a new group of players aren’t as good as an old group of players?

To be frank, 40 feels like a failure. Like many my age, I feel like I’ve fallen short. Too old for optimism, but too unaccomplished to feel proud.

I mean, what can you really accomplish after 40 anyway?

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