I turned forty-five today and must say it feels pretty good. My most memorable birthdays so far have been eighteen, the day I also graduated from high school; twenty-eight, when I finally slayed some ghosts and was making preparations to move forward and on to grad school; and thirty, when I graduated and moved to New York City. Since my fortieth birthday I have received tenure at my institution, gotten married, and witnessed the passing of both my father and father-in-law. Things move on. I have felt middle-aged for some time now–if I were truly at the halfway point that would mean reaching the finish line at ninety–but I feel this birthday firmly places me in the this age group. I have no desire to relive my twenties, and certainly not my teens. At the same time I feel like I am a young middle age, not quite ready or accomplished enough for fifty. I have stronger sense of who I am than I did five years ago. I also have a better sense of where I am going intellectually and otherwise. Overall, not a bad place to be.