Behold The Ravages of Time…

The face of maturity on display.

A funny thing happened to me on the way into work today- I turned 40. Apparently it officially happened at 1:12pm, August 11th, 1982- but who’s counting really. Not I. Getting older is a rather perplexing phenomenon: people hype it up and assign great meaning to it, but honestly, in the now four decades that I have been lucky enough to walk the earth, I have never really “felt” older or different for that matter. I’m still the same person I have “always been” – at least since I reached the age of reason…just now with some extra padding and a few gray hairs.

In reality, the things that make me feel older is the loss of causal cultural frames of reference when it comes to talking to others. I can still hold my own with those who are older than myself, as I have an affinity towards enjoying things that logically should (keyword) be outside of my wheelhouse, but then I find myself out there, making a Groucho joke, cracking wise about the Lenny Bruce or chuckling about the Smother’s Brothers (I assure you- my references are wider than dated comedians…I’m just on a roll here). No, in reality, the problem happens when I’m talking to people younger than me- that’s when the pain starts. It truly doesn’t help that this last generation has enjoyed unfettered access to modern amenities like VOD, Streaming Services, and portable DVD/Blu-Ray players that have catered their own particular niche brand of entertainment – reinforcing whatever they have learned to find familiar and never forcing them beyond their own bubble of downey comfort.

The kids that will never know the pleasures of being handed a mix tape…or a CD for that matter containing a playlist of a certain stripe, either made by a friend or even better…made by a person who was crushing on you. Yeah…that George Michael song really slaps. Wait…where are you going? I was just about to tell you about how cool this Placebo album is! My dated taste in music aside, I can proudly hold my head up high, with the knowledge that I will (at least at the moment) never be accused of being “Cheugy” – I’m not hipster…because what I like was never truly “hip” in my own time, but I can confidently say, unlike my Gen-Z students, (yes, I’m throwing shade) I know things outside of my wheelhouse. I’m hopeful though…my wife threw me a party where we got to introduce our niece to old school Muppets…and apparently, that has taken hold like gangbusters…so as far as I am concerned, the future is so bright…I gotta wear shades. Case and point- I’m happy…and I hope others are too. Here’s to surviving another decade. C’mon world. Bring on 50.

Dictated, Not read.

~The Management.