Getting older is a weird deal. Most of us ages 30 and above are happy that we no longer have to do the embarrassing things that come with youth such as asking your parents for money or feeling like an ass because your fake I.D. got confiscated by the no-neck bouncer at the club. However, in our youth-obsessed culture we are programmed to want to be young forever, and hate anything associated with growing older, which puts us in a precarious position when we finally make peace with the reality that we are aging, and feel okay about the whole process.
My mother used to tell us that as you get older time goes by faster. At the time my siblings and I were young and thought maybe Mom had just skipped her medication again, but now that I'm a mom (thankfully, unmedicated) I understand what she was talking about.
Last weekend was monumental. My little Rachael got her "big girl" bed. About three weeks ago she started coming into our bed at night to sleep with us, which is never fun, because she sleeps horizontally and kicks the living crap out of us. I thought maybe she was going through one of her growth spurts, which is often accompanied by a disrupted sleep pattern, but one night as I was putting her down I noticed that she was six inches away from hitting her head and feet on the end boards of her converted crib.
Jeff and I immediately went out, bought the bed, and on Saturday I took her "little" bed apart and spent two hours assembling her "big girl" bed. My husband, by the way, was out shopping the entire time for a box spring that we didn't need. Those who say women can't put anything together are welcome to kiss my screwdriver. That night I put her to sleep in her new bed, and it struck me how tiny she looked under the loudly colored Dora the Explorer comforter. It was the same way she looked the first time we put her in her crib. I'd like to say that she slept perfectly, but by 2:00 AM she was kicking the crap out of us again. Maybe we should have gotten her the matching nightstand.
Rachael is often the catalyst for my aging reality. Before I was a mom I didn't have to be responsible. I had to pay my rent, credit card bills, and make car payments, but if I wanted to blow something off and be a complete flake I could get away with it. Now I find flaky 20-somethings annoying and choose to deal with them as little as possible.
The other day I went hunting for a CD for my co-worker's birthday. After hitting a half a dozen stores I can tell you that, number one, there are no good music stores left, and, number two, that I feel old for remembering the day when music stores were decent. I walked into a store that I hadn't been to in ages and asked American Apparel clad kid behind the counter where the Rock CDs were. He directed me to the back end of the store on the left to which I replied, "Oh, over where the cassettes used to be." He looked at me funny, laughed, and said, "Dude, we haven't had cassettes in, like, forever!" I was tempted to beat him over the head with my cane, but I left it hanging on my Powerchair next to my Life Alert necklace, so I just walked to the back of the store and looked for the CD. I never found it, by the way, so that entire experience was probably just karma kicking my ass for something I flaked out on in my 20s.
Here I am in my early 30s, a has-been by this society's standards. The music I love is now considered Classic Rock, I spend money on anti-wrinkle cream instead of designer costume jewelry, clerks at Hot Topic automatically assume I'm buying for my kid, people call me "ma'am" when I go to concerts unless they are those aforementioned Classic Rock type of shows, and I've never been happier.
For all of the fuss this culture makes over "the best time in your life is your early 20s", I look at that time in my life with a touch of distain. I was confused, broke, didn't know what I wanted from life, hadn't realized what I was capable of doing, madly searching for love without knowing what I wanted from a partner, and was basically lost. I'm so much more of a level-headed vital, person now. I've got my shit together, and the world is my oyster. The only thing I miss from my 20s are my college tits, and I’m having those restored as soon as I’m done having my second (and last) kid in the next couple of years.
Until then, society can kiss my has-been ass! I may not have been to your crappy music store "in, like, forever," but judging by the mediocre garbage you have lining your selection shelves, I obviously wasn't missing much.
9 comments:
As a 20-something, I can honestly say that I agree with you. It's painful to watch my generation flush themselves down that giant toilet we call youth. When did we develop such an asinine sense of entitlement? I guess that question is a blog post in itself. I hope that as we enter into a more mature stage of adulthood, it manages to pass. I do agree that these years I'm in now are great, but if I were out living the life most people my age are, I'd be miserable. Really, how many times can you wake up next to a toilet and think "wow, I must have had a really great time last night"? How many useless conversations about handbags can you have before you want to poke your own eyes out? Why can no one see that buying Paris Hilton's CD, or any other crap music that's out now, is equal to buying packaged gonorreah? It's a sad state most people my age are in, but I guess that's the way of it. I'm just thankful my age is the only thing I have in common with my generation.
LOL - try turning 40. :P
seriously, what killed me was hearing the music that my friends and i listened to in a spirit of total rebellion against society getting played on "resurrection flashback sunday" - in other words, alernative oldies.
dude...we're still cursing about new wave and now you're calling us alternative??? or, like, hearing bands i slam-danced to [like flipper] called things like "the grandfathers of grunge", shit like that. ugh. at least give me another ten years before calling me a grandfather...
anyway...join the crowd of cool people who didn't die before they got old. and go easy on those 20-somethings. at some point, they're going to grow up into the people who have to change our bedpans.
I really appreciate this post because I've fallen into that trap myself. Currently I'm 26, and feel like I should be living my life differently somehow. How disgusting that I didn't even realize it was something that had been implanted into my brain. BLEAH!!!
Rock on! I love your blog. I just turned 28 and agree with your sentiments on flaky 21 year olds and having your shit together now. I've heard the 30's is the best decade of one's life and i can't wait to hit it.
If you're ever in the St. Louis area, try Vintage Vinyl in the Loop. It still maintains a fairly decent atmosphere (with consideration of pretentious snob factor permeating every proper music store).
I feel you though. I may wholly believe that we should age into ourselves, gracefully accept the limitations of growing older, but I am simultaneously buying Oil of Olay and rubbing it into my blossoming crow's feet. And I'm still perusing the Junior's section wondering why my breasts don't fit comfortably into the tiny, flat cups made for little girls.
20's?
I enjoyed them. A time without responsibility.....maybe not always such a great thing, hence the annoying sight of 'kidults' these days.
But hey, at least we were lucky enough not to face bullets.
Before my head goes on the chopping block. Let me say that not all folks in their early 20-somethings are flaky and irresponsible. However, there seems to be a dangerous trend in the majority of that age group that obsesses on celebrity worship and instant gratification that hasn't been seen in previous generations. Many cultural studies scholars have written essays about these trends, and their prognosis for the future of this early 20-something generation is not good. Thankfully, there are a portion of young people with good heads on their shoulders, and they will need them, because they will have to pull the rest of their generation from a horrible fate. Personally, I don't envy those bright folks.
30 something? I remember being 30 something. I think. Never mind. Have fun getting old. I did. Still am. 'N I'm still flaky!!!
Teenagers are worse in England! A boy at the top of my street is 15 and a alcoholic. Dad let him sleep on our sofa one night as his parents locked him out. Mum was not pleased! She did make him some breakfast though. I don't think many people care anymore no matter how old they are, which is very sad. How can someone give up at 15?
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