I’m 41. There, I said it. Turnin 42 in September. I have a career with letters after my name. House, wife, two beautiful daughters. But understand something about me. I’m not old. Saying “I’m old” is something that people say to make younger people feel inferior. Hear me out:
We’ve all heard a 29 year old say to a 21 year old “Man, I wish I could party like I used to – you don’t know how good you’ve got it!”
Or the 35 year old say to the 29 year old, “You don’t know anything yet. Wait til you hit 34!”
I find this laughable.
By using the age card, folks try to twist it into experience. “I’m older than you so I know better.” Probably because some 60 year old has done it to them their whole life. It all depends on the age of the crowd you’re in, but everyone likes to be the wisest in the room and if age is all we got, that’s what we focus on.
I never say I’m old. Partly because it’s a state of mind and I’m male. Males are perpetually 14 years old at heart. Sports, movies with explosions, fart jokes and hot girls in tight jeans will always hammer away at our senses. But the minute you TRULY feel old is when your mind starts to decline. I will admit that I can’t eat what I used to eat and that my throw from 3rd base to 1st base takes a little more work, but that doesn’t mean I’m old, it’s just physical attrition. Or stronger gravity, I’m not sure which.
Having said all that above, I must be at that ‘tweener age. Some things make me aware that I’m 41 and other times, I forget.
Things that remind me I’m oldDER:
While walking an applicant back to an interview, Donna Summer’s ‘Love to Love you Baby’ is playing on the office radio, and I’m completely embarrassed because Mrs. Summer is moaning in between verses.
I shake my head when I see a piercing anywhere but the ear
I wonder why the neighbors can’t shut the party down at midnight.
I shudder when I see someone’s going to play a guitar in church
I can stretch a triple into a single.
I haven’t forgiven Ted Kennedy
But……like I said. I’m a young male………..so:
I steal looks at the lady cleavage
I still yell at the umpire for not making the right call
I won’t bypass a resume from Koneisha Haslam just because of her name.
I understand that the “Golden Years” were not so golden for women.
I let my kids “pull my finger”
I have forgiven Bill Clinton
And finally, I’m still compelled to give someone a swift kick in the groin when they use the term,’whippersnapper’………
