A year back, I took turning 48 unusually hard. Maybe it was because 48, unlike 47, rounded up to 50. Maybe it was because I was unhappy with parts of my life that are in the rear-view mirror now. Today, I turned 49, and I’m pretty content. The view is not so bad. As a matter of fact, I am enough at peace with it that I think I will stay here — stuck at 49 — permanently. Every year, from now on, will be my 49th birthday. Side benefit, Sofia gets to stay six days shy of turning seven.