RYAN LEE | 3.26.2008
,
I’m sorry to warn you things are about to get
much more stressful.
Not even kids who are currently 9 years old
will avoid feeling like a black-and-white
television or World War I veteran. And it’s going
to happen soon.
My boyfriend is a second grade teacher, and
it’s troubling to think that the children in his
classroom — babies born in 2000 and 2001 —
are already old enough to receive report cards,
do fractions for homework and offer sobering
observations about reality. Usually his students
light up my boyfriend’s life with their naivety
and abiding love, but sometimes they hurt him
with their 7-year-old honesty.
Returning from a recent field trip, one of his
students was trying to explain something, but
worried that her teacher — one of the youngest
and hippest in the school — wouldn’t
understand.
“But you were born in the 1900s,” she said,
prompting a downward shift on my boyfriend’s
face. The little girl placed her hand on top of
his and tried to undo the damage by saying,
“I’m sorry, but you were.”
age 30, and in case you haven’t heard, 60 is
the new 40, and 30 is the new 80. If I had a
dollar, or better yet, a euro, for every time I’ve
heard “But I don’t feel 30,” I could retire by the
time I was 30.
My 24-year-old roommate celebrates being
the “baby of the bunch” as part of his identity,
but, baby, is he in for a rude awakening. That’s
a shame, too, because 25 isn’t old; although
when you consider it’s a quarter century, it
inspires the same aged depression as those
ancient 1900s.
But how many 70 and 85-year-olds would
auction off all of their prescription meds and
Bingo daubers in order to again be 25, 38, or
planning their 10-year high school reunion. I try
not to feel bad about becoming an adult, but
sometimes it’s inevitable.
Like the other day when I found myself
Googling a slang term I’d never heard before. I
appreciate having search engines as life vests
for my coolness, but living in such
technologically dynamic times makes aging all
the more complicated.
I’ve always considered myself computer and
tech savvy, but have no idea what basic terms
like Twitter, Blu-ray and RSS feed mean.
These damned kids and their gadgets!
back to the good ol’ days when the music was
better, children were more respectful to their
elders and politicians were honest. That time
never existed, so I urge you to resist telling
younger generations that they don’t know what
they’re missing.
Frankly, my generation has no right to
reminisce about the good ol’ days, pretending
like the world was a better place before the
Internet and caller ID. Yes, cell phones have
introduced countless forms of rudeness into our
casual interactions, but is anyone going to argue
that home telephones, with their imprisoning
chords and lack of picture-taking capabilities,
made our lives better than Nokia has?
My generation also has little to complain
about as we approach 30, since so, so, so
many of the gay men in generations directly
before us didn’t live to see that ripe milestone.
AIDS prevented them from having a midlife
crisis, and may be the reason that ours arrives
in our 20s.
I’m a casual absurdist, believing that the
world will never be able to give humans what
we desire most — eternal life and eternal
youth. The challenge we face is despairing over
the time that will forever seep through our
fingers, or recognizing the absurdity of our
existence, and realizing not much matters.
Whether 15 or 50, we are here today, and
must find a way to be OK with that. Part of
being comfortable with your age is
remembering that the world was not flawless
when kids played with Legos; Ipods do not
guarantee inner peace; and happiness did not
begin at the end of the 1900s.
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