Banter, but very deep banter
So there I was, driving out to the summerfallottment with the back of the Mazda micro-van loaded with a bag of peatmoss, a spade, forks, hoes, etc., rockin' to the Adverts' Bored Teenagers on the family-sized stereo CD system, when I suddenly realised I will turn 50 in about a month.
What the...?
Having had a year to reflect on it, turning 40 was worse than turning 50. Trust me, it's a laughable matter.
adverts are awesome! I can relate, i turn 30 tomorrow and it's kind of a weird hump, like all the 10 year increments are.
well happy birthday milo (even if it is a day early) hope you enjoy it to the fullest
Having had a year to reflect on it, turning 40 was worse than turning 50. Trust me, it's a laughable matter.
I don't even remember turning 40, and I'm kinda looking forward to 50; it seems like an accomplishment. I was just wondering if it isn't weird for an old guy to be listening to something called "Bored Teenagers." It seems weird to me, even if all the Adverts are a couple of years older than I am.
Happy Birthday Milo.
Happy Birthday, milo. *champagne*
A lot of my friends said the same thing bagkitty says, that 40 was the tough transition, and by 50 you're just kind of ... inured. I was actually kind of deliriously happy as I turned 40, but that's purely anecdotal (I was in love). At 40, most sensible people (ie: not me) have to recognize that they're not kids any longer, and that can lead to some odd behaviour in the first stages of denial.
I don't actually remember turning 50. When I turned 60, I was in shock, halfway between my mother's death and then my husband's, so I didn't know what to think about aging except that it was kind of mean and I would prefer not to think of my own. I can't say I've progressed far from that point -- I still have to worry about a bunch of beings who are aging faster than I am, so repression seems the only way to keep going.
Thirty felt like such a huge transition. I wasn't where I wanted to be, wasn't doing something I loved, felt like I was wasting my life, wanted a change. They say be careful what you wish for. I had no idea what the year had in store for me... Just after I turned 30 I lost my father and found the love of my life. Tumultuous year.
Forty was a piece of cake. I felt great about 40. There was almost something freeing about it. The blond guy is busy dealing with 50, but doesn't like talking about it. I'm in between 40 and 50, so I'm not sure how I'll feel about it, but I don't think I'll ever feel as awful about a birthday as I did at 30.
I never thought I'd make 30 (Hope I die before I get old). Now look at me, Damned teenagers and their infernal music.
On the eve of my 30th (well, ok, two days before), I quit a successful career in marketing in a capitalist enterprise. I submitted a brief outlining why we should not do business with a particularly egregious energy company contributing to human rights abuses on the other side of the world. (I was tempted to post it in the thread about the flight attendant and the broker quitting by whiteboard, but we'd all get sued.) And now I hang around with the likes of you people.
Yep, there's something about those 10 year increments that make you reflect, and I was not where I thought I'd be when I'd thought of my future when I was 20.
The soundtrack for those few months was U2's All That You Can't Leave Behind. And The Beatles (always The Beatles).
I'm sorry about your losses, skdadl. You, too, Timebandit.
Actually the oldest I ever felt was when I was 20; I remember thinking back then that I would be as good as in the grave when I turned 40 around the year 2000. In fact 40 was the beginning of the happiest time of my life. I don't foresee any problems with hitting 50 next year.
All those fantasies about reliving your teens or 20s? Not that mine were terrible, but I have absolutely no desire to go back and relearn all that shit again.
Really and truly... when I was 10, I reflected on the prospects.
"This is the best. Stoppin here."
12 sucked.
All those fantasies about reliving your teens or 20s? Not that mine were terrible, but I have absolutely no desire to go back and relearn all that shit again.
Same here (although my teens and twenties were terrible)...except I sorta miss having that godlike physique.
getting older sucks. Why? The capitalist class that I'm in, can't afford me the crowns I need for my root canals.
Godlike physique? Ganesh or Hephaestus? (If you say Anubis, I am going to be totally creeped out)
Geez, al-Q. The Adverts? Would you be listening to the Arcade Fire's new record if you were a twentysomething today?
We were already bored.
We were already, already bored.
Turning 30 was the highlight of my life. It's gone all downhill from there. Look at me: I'm moderating babble fer crissakes.
I know a lot of late-twenties who are worried about turning thirty. I tell them they're worried about turning thirty because they're afraid they've wasted their twenties. "Don't sweat it," I say. "You have."
ETA: Oh, and happy birthday milo! Chin chin. And a pre-emptive happy birthday to al-Q. I hope you made some garbage-pail ale for the occasion.
Oh, god! I was thinking of creating a flounce thread chronicling my whole 'holy shit, i wasted my life and i totally hate myself right now (but at least I acknowledge this?)!' rant. Instead I can totally just post a small blurb about it in someone else's thread.
Regardless, happy birthday milo! 20-21 has been the worst so far, that was when I realized chronology actually existed and it would constantly increase. 20 never turned back into 19 or 18 or 4 or 12 or 16 or any other weird, wasted years. It just turned into 21. Damn you reality. I can't wait to be 40. My discontent is going to be so wintered.
I thought turning 30 was really cool. And I'm not just saying that now.
And in a fit of inspiration- my best friend as a child [back when I decided that this was the best age by far] I had been seperated from at 12. But I was remembering him when HIS 30th was coming up [before mine], and knew his parents would never move no matter what was happening to the neighbourhood.
So I got his phone number from them and called him up.
We had a great conversation. And since I had a frozen and very clear memory of his voice as a boy... I couldnt get over the sensation that this was someone pretending to sound adult. [He always was smarter than me. Which was always cool with me.]
The teenage years are awkward. Would never want to go back and cringe quite often looking back. Thirtieth high school reunion next year will be a bittersweet look back. I spent my twenties as a university student. The last half of that decade is a bit blurry. Started working at universities at 30. Spent that decade developing my work persona and pedagogical self. it wasn't until after 40 that I began to feel comfortable in my skin. I anticipate 50 will just feel like a number along the route.
Fast forward 25 years. That was so much fun calling my boyhood bosom buddy at 30- hey, lets do it again. [Nothing on that first enjoyed phone call about 'we should get together'... do live several thousand miles apart, and distances were more then, even to a world traveller like myself.]
His parents were REALLY OLD [like 40s] even when we were kids. So I know they wont be still living to get his phone number from. But its now the age of Google and my friends name is very unusual.
And there he is. Remarkably limited info about him though, but his marriage certificate comes up... and their 25th anniversary is in a few weeks. Lots of info about his wife and where her work. Including a picture of her and their daughter, who is the spitting image of my friend.
But who knows if they are still married. So I send a brief email to one of her co-workers. Yes, they are still married, he thinks this is really sweet, and wont tell them.
So I send a 25th anniversary card. Along with a picture of me and my family [also with a look-alike daughter] and contact info.
Nothing back. This time around I guess I'm a stalker.
Should have REALLY stopped growing up when I knew things were at their best.
For a short stretch during my early 20s I was taking a lot of psychedelics- after having been a person who stayed away from them for several years of everybody else doing that.
When I stopped it had obviously done something to my memory. Not real bad. No short term memory problems or stuff like that. But it left my childhood memories intact [and I have numerous corraborated memories beginning at 3]- when I was having fun- while turning into a blur the disliked teen age years until I left home.
Geez, al-Q. The Adverts? Would you be listening to the Arcade Fire's new record if you were a twentysomething today?
That's a good question, but I kinda doubt it, as Arcade Fire is way more mainstream/contemporary (I heard them on Jon Stewart's show the other day - what a racket) than what I listened to in my 20s, which was a lot of reggae, blues (of the Sonny Boy Williamson, Muddy Waters and Howlin' Wolf variety) and hardcore punk.
My record purchases used to draw comments from the sales staff, especially when I'd bring combinations such as The Wailers' Catch a Fire and Parisian Swing by The Quintette of the Hot Club of France to the counter. At another store the clerk started asking me all kinds of questions when I tried to buy the Exploited's Horror Epics and an Artie Shaw record at the same time.
Most US Students Think Beethoven is a Dog
Nief and McBride take a year to put the list together, gathering outside contributions and poring over journals, literary works, and the popular media from the year of the incoming university students' birth.
"Then we present the ideas to every 18-year-old whose attention we can get and we wait for the 'mindset moment' -- the blank stare that comes back at you that makes you realize they have no idea what you're talking about," Nief told AFP.
The class of 2005 -- born in 1983 -- thought of Sarajevo as a war zone, not an Olympic host, and had no idea what carbon paper was.
Apartheid never existed in South Africa for the class of 2006, and for the class of 2007, "Banana Republic has always been a store, not a puppet government in Latin America."
The list is a mirror of how rapidly perceptions can change: to the class of 2013, boxer Mike Tyson was "always a felon" but to students who graduated five years earlier, Tyson was "always a contender."
The list makes some people feel old, like those who remember what Michael Jackson looked like when he was singing in the Jackson Five or recall the days when there were only a handful of channels on television.
I'll bet they never heard of Mary Hopkin either.
And a pre-emptive happy birthday to al-Q. I hope you made some garbage-pail ale for the occasion.
I bought a case of Boh ("A Saskatchewan Tradition") and drank most of that, as well as some other libations. I had a nasty headache to greet my second half-century. Winnipegians might be interested to know that I got a banjo and a pair of Rider boxers as birthday presents. My guitar-playing kid taught me how to play Duelling Banjos for the occasion.
Back in Grade 8 in 1973 we had this old guy as a sub in English class. I think his name was Mr. McCallum, but we called him "Ancient Arnie." I don't remember much about him except that he smelled of cigarettes. He did have a theme song, though, based on an Overwaitea jingle. Good ol' Tom McSorley came up with "Ancient Arnie, Ancient Arnie. For over half a century!"
I find it fancinating how my teen years seemed to have gone on, and on, and on, and on. And once on the other side of twenty, the ages I couldn't see myself reaching, my angst was replaced with urgency. I had absolutely no preconception that one really doesn't start living until they've reached 30. What a wonderfully self-reassuring decade to live through. lol.
I've found that once you've hit your fifties you can do whateverthehellyouwant, and nobody cares...because you're just some old guy, and expectations aren't that great.
I would say I have never really been bothered about my age. Except for that one day long ago when one of my friends said "you're a quarter century now" It made my 25th the worst birthday ever as I reflected on the meaning of his statement.
If someone says anything about 'half a century' when it arrives I'm gonna lose it.
I've found that once you've hit your fifties you can do whateverthehellyouwant, and nobody cares...because you're just some old guy, and expectations aren't that great.
Depending on where you are situated, I think it tends to be a fair bit later than that.
I am 59. And that describes my father- who is 78.
My father expects. I do.
After complaining about a particularly egregious example of what he blithely knows I will do, my wife's comment:
"That is what children are for."
Yeah, well I move among 18-year olds quite a bit. I'm prehistoric in their eyes.
Yes, schools are amazing for that.
Prehistoric, and weird... when and if they notice you at all.
The infrequent times I step in at my wifes school, to bring her something, and shes not a teacher herself surrounded by kids.... she admonishes me for what I'm wearing or how I walk, or whatever. I think its like I am supposed to suspend for my brief visist being that old guy who behaves as he wants. Not that its concious. I guess just out of practice with bothering.
Whats wrong with my work clothes anyway?
Yes, schools are amazing for that.
Prehistoric, and weird... when and if they notice you at all.
The infrequent times I step in at my wifes school, to bring her something, and shes not a teacher herself surrounded by kids.... she admonishes me for what I'm wearing or how I walk, or whatever. I think its like I am supposed to suspend for my brief visist being that old guy who behaves as he wants. Not that its concious. I guess just out of practice with bothering.
Whats wrong with my work clothes anyway?
Ah yes, schools, highly regimented places, where we learn to care about differences. I guess the nearest analogue would be a military barrack.
I never felt anything at those turning point years, and now that I'm forty six I feel nothing except an awareness, moreso, of my mortal coil. My cousin died at forty eight. Just dropped dead after standing up from the couch. That bears on me. That we can be here now and not the next. I like to think I am fearless in the face of death but I fear I will beg like the hordes before me for just one more breath.