Cries From the Mid-Life Circus

In just over two weeks I shall turn forty.
This means that I must plan for my mid-life crisis, a life-changing event which I understand could begin any day now.

The standard approach would be to get a sports car, a toupee and a twenty-year old girlfriend named Bambi or Candi. This has its merits:

1) I cut a dashing figure in an MG!

On the downside, my real car is a 1987 Honda Accord. It gets good mileage but it doesn't attract many Bambies and Candies- who, in any case, are likely at least as difficult and expensive to maintain as the MG.

I'd face the guillotine before I'd wear a toupee.
After the guillotine it's a moot point.

In my mind, a man who wears a toupee loses all rights to utter a single word in regard to the idiosyncrasies of women, their vanity , appearance and the like. As long as he's wearing a wig, he'd better keep his mouth shut about whatever his wife or GF wears, primps, etc.
Dude!
You'd give that up just so's people could laugh at a muskrat gnawing on your skull?

So, I don't need the toupee - but I'm still several hundred thousand dollars shy of achieving the rest of the goal-more than being merely a man out of money ; spritually, I'm a Man Out of Time.
I'll take a more Classical approach and meditate on God, Nature, Man, Art,Love,Universe- you know, Stuff. I'm sure it's not as complicated as it's made out to be.
I might be able to understand some of it.

I'm not a complete dunce.

If I were, I'd be shopping for a wig.




*Huuugggeee props to anyone who can tell me where I punned the post's title from.