Six months from today, I will be 50 years old.  With any luck, I’ve still got half my life yet to live, but I also have to admit there are a lot of candles burned down on my birthday cakes.  Lately, I’ve been reading some interesting memoirs – written by a variety of people, both famous and not so, in a variety of styles, both formal and unconventional.  The stories they tell are funny and sad, inspirational and mundane, conversational and poetic.  Regardless of style, memoirs provide a glimpse into the author’s life, and mind, and heart.  I’ve started to realize that I don’t…