Thursday, September 04, 2008

Just a lad

I turn 29 this month. The fact isn't bothering me on a constant basis, its more like smaller spasms of bother like an eye twitch. I'm saving up the anxiety like a fat store of worry, for those times when everything's going great, whenever that is. As the years go by the idea of a worry free or at least worry-less-than-now future seems about as real as the tooth fairy. (jeez somebody's kid is screaming its lungs out right now, its unbelievably loud. Clearly this lady doesn't care that her kid just ran down my isle flinging its spitty straw about, I still can't even tell if its a boy or a girl, maybe it's Pat) Aging is supposed develop you somehow. It feels more like its breaking me down. Its stripping away my inhibitions, my sense of propriety, and piece by piece my sanity. I can understand why if you live long enough someone ends up emptying your bed pan. Perhaps, just perhaps, you figure out "hey being a baby was pretty much as good as my life got so I'll head back that direction". That seems to be what happens. Your hair falls out, your teeth fall out, you shrink, you start being dressed up in ridiculous ways, you lose the ability to connect on an understandable level with anyone, buttons and lights make you smile with wonder, and you shuffle about teetering and tottering about to collapse. I mean you if you hang around this place long enough people will even start feeding you. I have to say, on those really lazy days when lay in bed for hours, dozing and staring off its pretty great.

Unfortunately to go that direction as a 28 year old grown man is frowned upon. Meanwhile, some 80 year old is slumped over in his chair, having pudding shoveled into his face and we say, he's earned it after all that toil. We even feel sorry for him. He's probably just laughing his azz off behind closed doors having finally figured out the system.

The big plus side of birthdays at this age is that most of your friends and family are working full time and can afford to drop some change on you, that is if they really love you. (hint hint) Giving gifts on someone's birthday is kind of a weird tradition if you think about it. "Here you go I got you this colored paper and shirt to say, hey I'm glad you're not dead yet." Just what is it we're celebrating here? The fact that I was born? or that I'm not dead yet? At some point it clearly goes from one to the other. (holy crap I think there's a girl in leather pants looking at leather pants? who ARE these people?...yup they're definitely leather I just want to go up and ask why? its like a million degrees today and she doesn't really have the ehum..shape for them) I think that at first its about celebrating the birth. Then you get to the middle years, say 8-68 or so. Those years seem a little forced so we attach significance to them with little mini bosses. 13 you're finally a teenager, 16 you can drive, 18 you can get the hell out of your parents house, 21 you can drink, 25....dont know why this one's significant, 30...end of the 20s, 40 middle age, 50 half a century, 65 retire (psh yeah right).

Might as well capitalize on the 20s. I really need to get to work on a birthday gift list. I've got a few things already that would be nice. A wetsuit, a bike, another year of disneyland, maybe a new longboard of my own, perhaps a flat screen tv. I guess most of those are pretty big ticket items but I have real needs here people. Also if anyone can figure out how to fit a new job into a box and get it to me that'd be swell.


Post a Comment

<< Home