Another year older....sort of.

On the TV series Rosanne there was an episode where Rosanne and Jackie’s mother was moving into a retirement community. At one point in the show Rosanne turns to Jackie and asks, “How old do you feel?” Jackie’s response was, “Thirty….isshhh. Eight years old, twelve on a good day.” I think that pretty much sums up how we all feel most of the time.

A few days ago I turned another year older (Some of you my exact age, as for the rest of you who don’t? BUZZZ! Thanks for playing!) and I have to say, I don’t feel my age. But then again how am I supposed to feel? Should I start shopping at Eddie Bauer all the time or put NCIS into heavy rotation of my TV watching? Should I be in bed by ten and start listening to the muzak station WAARP? Should I have dinner at three in the afternoon to take advantage of Early Bird special at Denny’s? OH HELL NO! Show where it’s written when you turn a certain age you must stop experiencing new things, having a few drinks, listening to new music or even having friends of various ages! I have to admit I have changed some, I can’t remember the last time I had any sort of hard liquor (well, not counting those whiskey shots last week) and I appreciate my quiet time more and I still listen to all kind of music but much like the liquor it’s not as hard on the senses. What doesn’t make sense to me is, why people when they hit their forties they seem to stop living? Men especially, they just seem to not want to do anything anymore. They’d much rather park their carcass in front of the TV and hibernate like great lounging grizzlies. So many of my friends from back in the day have become so stale and uneventful (not that there’s anything wrong with that.) My cousin and I are the same age and we were having a chat one day where she was telling me about the neighborhood she lives in.

“We’re surrounded by OLD people,” she says to me.

“How old are they?” I ask.

“Our age! They’re in bed by nine….ON THE WEEKENDS!”

Now this throws her and me for a loop. We didn’t get it. It can’t be the fact they have kids, she has kids. We didn’t understand. We pandered this while we finished our second bottle of wine.

Just recently some friends from college and I got together for a mini-reunion. Let me preface this by telling you these are the same friends when I saw them a few years helped pull me out of a somewhat depressing depression and mid-life crisis. But I digress. We met up at a friend’s house and then headed downtown for dinner. While we were sitting around talking I had mentioned a few of my current friends (and “friends”) who are a bit younger than I am and what we did when we hung out; the friends, not the “friends.” My college buddies looked at me a little perplexed until one of them asked, “What could you guys possibly have in common to talk about? They’re children.” It was almost as if I was a pedophile to them. I assumed they all would friends of various ages. So I told them, “We talk about art, movies, politics, music, books.” I explained to them it’s not like all my friends are in their early thirties or late twenties. I do also have friends closer to my age or even older. Age doesn’t mean that much to me, I’ve met people my age who act like teenagers and younger people are in fact old souls. I enjoy my friends of many ages, cultures, professions and criminal backgrounds.

It’s not like I’m out whoopin’ it up every night or getting drunk then reporting for work on three hours sleep. But I also am not one for a quiet life. Sure I like to listen to NPR, sure I like to just relax with a nice dinner and some coffee but I like my beer too. I like my music (by the way my new favorite, a band called Fitz & The Tantrums…check ‘em.) I like my ice cream (fat content and all.) I like going to clubs on occasion and dancing even though my moves are kind of rusty and hitting up a diner after closing time. I still like going to house parties and sitting in the kitchen talking until three in the morning while downing the last drop of wine in the house. WHO CARES!? I am proud of the fact I don’t act my age. I feel that is what’s going to keep me going. It’s what’s going to keep me sharp and active in my golden years. So I’m still going to hang out with people who are not my age, drink and eat things I shouldn’t and surround myself with new things when I can. Now if you’ll excuse me, my back hurts and I need more wine.