When I turned 40, my wife and in-laws lovingly arranged a surprise birthday party. I received a variety of bawdy, age-related, gag gifts from a basement packed with smiling family members and friends.

I distinctly remember sitting in a chair as a voluptuous belly dancer jiggled around me as everyone laughed and clapped. I got drunk and donned a funny wig that covered my receding hairline. I opened numerous presents, which included the book, “Fly Fishing Through the Mid-Life Crisis” and a coffee mug that says, “Life Begins at 40.” (I still have both.)

The next 10 years flew by. I changed jobs twice, moving my wife and two children down to the Catskills and then back to the Syracuse, N. Y. area to take an editing job with a local, daily newspaper. During that time, my daughter, Katie, and son, Alex, became teenagers. I threw myself into coaching youth soccer, and served year-long terms as president of the Skaneateles girls and boys soccer booster clubs.

Turning 50, though, wasn’t as memorable. I told my wife and kids not to plan any party or even to worry about giving gifts. We had a nice, family dinner at home. I have no memory of a cake. I received a few cards from in-laws in the mail. I bought myself a $600 Taylor guitar. That was it.

Looking back, I wasn’t happy. I was starting to get burned out at my newspaper job and my marriage was evolving into something that made me pause. I found myself constantly stewing in bed at night: “Is this it? Is this as good as gets?”

Sure, I knew a lot of people. But I had no close friends, no one to go with for a beer, or to go fishing with in Central New York’s numerous streams and lakes at a moment’s notice. My life lacked a healthy balance.

Meanwhile, my resentment was growing toward my wife, Laura, who seemed to spending more and more time with her female friends. She was playing indoor soccer, softball, getting away for kayak weekends each fall in the Adirondacks, girl friend getaways with her sister and sister-in-law, meeting for drinks with her buddies every Thursday night at a local bar.

I had nothing going like that. Life was a bore. I was in a mid-life crisis up to my eyebrows and no amount of fly fishing or drinking from a special coffee cup was going to change that.

On this blog, I’ll write about the highs and lows of what I went through, and how I dealt with them — and the realization that I was not alone in struggling with these issues. The emphasis of this blog will be men of a certain age (40-65).

I’ll be writing columns from the standpoint of someone who’s living in and surviving these years, dealing with its many issues – some that I feel are unique to this generation of men.

I’m no Dear Abby. I’m a guy who loves to fish and camp, loves to watch sports on TV and savors a nice, cold beer now and then. I’m also balding, sporting a slight beer gut, on high blood pressure and chloresterol medication — and getting nagged by my daughter and wife to start using teeth-whitening strips. (I drink a lot of coffee).

I intend on weaving in comments from other guys I’ve chatted with informally on the topic of middle age, and others who I’ve conducted formal interviews with for an unpublished book that I’ve been slaving over for the past 7 years. I’ll also include reactions from readers of this blog.

To add credibility, I plan to sprinkle in advice and anecdotes from marriage counselors, ministers, bartenders, barbers, Sociology professors and authors who’ve write about male issues.

I have thoughts about where I want to go with this all, but they may change with time.

I’ll begin by looking into the importance for middle age guys of having male friends and carving out time for yourself. From there, I’ll look at stuff like sex during middle age, the importance of saying what you need to say and listening — and even the decision to seek marriage counseling, which my wife and I have done.

Other topics will include the middle-age bogeyman (being laid off or downsized) and making time with your children so you won’t feel guilty whenever you hear Harry Chapin’s song, “The Cat’s in the Cradle” on the radio.

My hope and dream is that this blog will help middle-age men understand that they’re not alone in what they’re facing. I’d like to inspire them to make needed changes in their lives and to enjoy life more.

I came across a quote recently by Margaret Mead that says it all:

“It is utterly false and cruelly arbitrary to put all the play and learning into childhood, all the work into middle age and all the regrets into old age,” she said.

Frankly, I couldn’t agree more.

P.S. I’d like to give special thanks and love to my wife, Laura, and children, Katie and Alex, who are supporting me in doing this. Since I am technologically challenged, Katie helped me set this blog up.