The latest meme is some economist's claim that people in the developed world are most miserable at age 47.
Not me. The year I was 47 was a good year for me. It's the year I completed my bucket-list goal of visiting all 50 U.S. states before the age of 50. The small-ship cruise that B. and I took through the southeastern waterways of Alaska, my 50th, is one of the two golden vacations that we shared when we were both still young and limber enough to do it. The other was our trip to Italy two years prior.
It's also the year I started my blog, and - not coincidentally - the year I discovered my second career as a concert reviewer. For it was a concert review I'd written for this blog that I submitted to SFCV, and they published it and paid me and began asking me to cover other concerts.
In general, I had no reason for a mid-life crisis because I was content with the way I was living, and I had things I wanted to do and was on the way to do them. I think life crises of this sort arise from not wanting to be at the stage of life you're at, and for me mid-life was the ideal stage.