originally written Friday, September 01, 2000. First published here!

"So this is how a man slips into the twilight of his life..." So began a recent Kevin Cowherd column for the Baltimore Sun. Mr. Cowherd's humor normally suits me, but this column, about purchasing a minivan, struck me the wrong way.

I'm 31, recently bought a minivan, and couldn't be happier about the decision. You see, my wife & I bought the van because of the impending birth of our son. 'Twilight', indeed--the best years of my life are just starting.

I realized that my generation really isn't represented in today's opinion columns. The columnists are all older than me, and while I read them, I don't relate, exactly. It bothered me enough that I sat down & started writing out my impressions. I do that occasionally--it makes me feel like I'm using my honors degree in English, out there now for almost ten years and not ever used professionally.

Back to my generation. Many of my friends aren't even married yet. Some aren't even in a steady relationship. Most of my married friends say they want children, but haven't yet committed to actually having them. But some of them have made the leap--and we all agree that it's changing us every day.

My wife & I have been married for four wonderful years; last year we decided that it was time to have that child we'd been thinking about. After a few months of depressingly-clinical chart-making, she surprised me with the news one day after work--we were pregnant!

I'll spare you the several paragraphs of amusing stories about my wife's pregnancy that I could put here--I do want to stay married, after all. Suffice it to say that no woman's pregnancy & labor is ever that easy--but on a fine day in August 2000 we met our son Daniel face-to-face.

If you're not a father, then I can't really begin to explain that feeling. I'd never been that happy before. I'd never been relieved and scared at the same time. I'd never stood up for 5 hours straight by my wife's bedside and been so mixed-up inside that I couldn't go to the bathroom for a day-and-a-half. But now I have. See, I'm no longer John...I'm Dad. And that changes everything.

In the space of a few days I have learned how to: do almost everything one-handed; change a diaper in about a minute; get by on less sleep than I've ever had; love unequivocally.

"Twilight" indeed. I think I'm going to get into my minivan and drive into my future. I can't forget my sunglasses!

Next week: Dad takes #1 out for the first time alone