27

Here's an ode to the magical age of 27:

My father had his own theory. "Twenty-seven is the height of your personal identity. For some people, that's right before they marry or settle down…" He explained that when you begin to make mature choice—to stick to a job, to stick with a partner—you end up making compromises. Your identity shifts. At twenty-seven, you're free.

I can't remember a damn thing that happened when I was 27. Nothing noteworthy, anyway. I think I played CBGBs at 27, but that might have actually been 26. The millennium happened when I was 27. That was a thrill a fucking minute. I think I discovered the Food Network at 27.

Quite a ride.