I've found that after you turn 50, the majority of parents I know understandably look forward to sailing off into the proverbial sunset. Retirement is right around the corner, the kids are grown and almost gone, and you finally get to do what YOU want to do again. They see the light at the end of the tunnel. That's the goal for the majority of people my age, but there's a little snag. First off, why are you in a tunnel? Is it because that's the quickest way to get to your destination? If so, then therein lies the difference between us. I've always embraced the belief that it's more about the journey than the destination. For that reason, I've chosen to skip the tunnel, drive up the front side of the mountain of life, BASE jump off the back, and enjoy the view on the way down.

I guess I'm not like many guys my age—actually, I don't think I'm like any guys my age, or any other age for that matter. To be real, I'm a little weird, it's kind of what I like about me. I think you'll be hard-pressed to find another 52-year-old wearing a Dreft-washed, sleeveless Wu-Tang Clan t-shirt and flip flops who's strapped with a toddler in a Baby Bjørn talking Enrico Morricone movie scores in the produce section of Ralph's. Sorry, Whole Foods, I inhaled poison working at a steel mill in Pittsburgh. If that hasn't got me by now, I don't think a nonorganic apple will.

I bring all this up because I find that I'm at a point in my life where I want to put the gas pedal to the floor, not ease up on it. This is the age you want to find out what you've got under the hood, not when you're 21, it's obvious then. It was this mindset that propelled me to ask my life partner-in-all-crimes-good, Carolina, to marry me.

The Cliff Notes version of our relationship goes as follows. We first met through a mutual friend online, but not a dating app, on Instagram…so yeah, a dating app. (This is usually the point where the gossiping begins.) She lived in New York and I was there on a business trip, so I asked her out for drinks. She said yes and gave me the address of a bar to meet her at in the West Village. I got there early, she was late, I realized there were no women in the establishment and thought she may have sent me to a gay bar as a joke, or maybe she was Pauly Shore “catfishing” me. Actually, that would have been pretty damn hilarious.

Luckily, Carolina showed up, perfectly backlit as she entered, almost like that scene of Kelly LeBrock in Weird Science, but in a much hotter Colombian way. We immediately hit it off, went to dinner after drinks, went to drinks after dinner, and I asked her to marry me on a rooftop bar overlooking the sparkling New York City skyline. She said yes and we've been together ever since that day (Figure 33.1). I know, even Evel Knievel was like, “Damn, when homie says he's putting the pedal to the metal, he's not lying!”

The reality of it all is, this is the first adult relationship I've ever been in where my partner puts the kid's needs, as well as mine, ahead of her own. It's something I've always tried to do in my prior relationships, and to experience it finally being reciprocated in such an unselfish, loving way proved to me that she was the One. Or as my grandfather, may he rest in peace, would have said, “She's the cat's ass, Danny!”

As the story is told, in 2019, five years into our fabulous family fun, Roman, India, Carolina, and I welcomed Enzo into our lives to round out the Cortese Crew starting five. Who would have thought that at 51 I would have slipped one past the goalie? Truth is, I didn't care what people thought. I was a father again, and it was just what my heart needed.

After Enzo was born, I noticed something when people would talk to me about becoming a parent again at my age. There were two very cut-and-dried opinions expressed: “Wow, you have two teenagers, you were so close to being done. Are you okay with having another one?” (I always laugh at “Okay with having another one?” like kids are donuts or a shot of tequila or something.) The other opinion, which was from a good majority of the men I talked to, said, “That's pretty damn amazing. I wish I could do it all over again, too!”

It got me to thinking about the first train of thought, and my opinion is simply this. When someone says, “You were almost done” to me, I feel like that's a phrase you use when you're referring to a person's prison sentence ending, not their children moving out. Maybe they just missed the meaning of parenthood the first time around, or maybe they're just the people who are letting up on the gas pedal. Or maybe it's as simple as, they're not me. Which, truthfully, makes the most sense—to each his own. It's how life should be.

In my eyes, parenthood is like the biggest E-ticket rollercoaster you've ever ridden, with the highest of highs and sudden drops that take your breath away. It scares the shit out of you, it makes you hold your breath, makes you laugh, makes you scream, makes you cry, makes you question, “Why did I do this?!” Then, the moment it's over, you catch your breath and smile to yourself when you realize how quickly the ride went by and that you survived it. And as you recollect the amount of incredible emotions you experienced along the way, you wish you could ride it just one more time.

Well, fortunately for me, I just found another five tickets in the front pocket of my 501 jeans and I'm back on board. I rode this wild ride with Roman, I rode it with India, so why not let Enzo take me for an adventure as well? Luckily, I didn't have to wait in line because they let people my age cut it.

As far back as I can remember I wanted to be a father, and now I've been blessed to experience that dream three times over. Nope, there's never a dull moment, especially with one in college, one in high school, and one in diapers. I've become accustomed to simultaneously talking potential career opportunities with Roman, while I “help” India with AP English homework, attempt to stop Enzo from diving off the couch, and give Carolina a kiss on the cheek…all while I write this sentence.

Truth is, when my journey comes to an end and I take a peek under the hood of my life, I'll see that while the ride with this crew wasn't always easy, the fun we had sure as hell made it worth it! My tank will be empty, but my soul will be full, knowing that I did my best to give my family all the love that I possibly could.