‘Tis was a warm summer evening, not long before twilight (the time of day, not the movie) when I found myself in the automobile parking area, congregating with the young people whilst is satisfied my hunger with a meat sandwich, otherwise known as a burger. While there, I found myself talking to a young gentleman, who asked me about my swag. Horrified, I clutched my hands to my breast and exclaimed “Goodness young man! You cannot ask a lady such a question! Besides that is what underwire is for!”
Yes, I mistook swag as meaning something to do with my boobies. I might only be in my late 20’s but I am feeling past it already. I used to be “hip” and “with it” but in the last few years something has happened. I no longer feel in touch with current fashions, I only listen to the radio if the classic chart is on, and the kids these days have a language that completely escapes me. So what happened? How did I become more “hip-replacement” than “hip”? Why am I old before my time?
I’m sure it is something everyone has faced at some point. Being part of a conversation only for it to turn to the latest fad and knowing nothing about it. The world is changing so quickly these days it is nearly impossible to keep up with every little thing. Twenty years ago there was no internet or mobile phones to keep us up to date. Even ten years ago the internet wasn’t all it was cracked up to be and mobiles were only starting to become an essential item. Now we have info constantly being fed to us and what was cool one minute is crap the next. The is no way to keep completely up to date with every little thing, unless you want to stay glued to your computer 24/7. But where is the fun in that? Life is meant to be lived, not watched.
But back to my dilemma of being old. The only explanation I can come up with is my identity is changing without me noticing. Yes I may have turned 21 for a few years in a row now but it’s pretty obvious that I’m not. I used to go and hang out with the boy racers and drink coffee at 11pm but now I prefer being in bed at 10pm and I drive a mini-van. I still like cars and enjoy going to watch a race at a track but the thought of taking a two year old to see a 1.0 litre car do doughnuts in a car park makes me cringe. So I think its time to face the facts, I’m 29 going on 50. I have no desire to stay glued to the news feed on the web just so I can be cool. Not that it is a bad thing, I just wish it hadn’t crept up on my like this. As far as age goes, I’m still young, there’s still plenty of time to enjoy myself. So lets have a herbal tea and do some knitting until I actually turn 50, then I might regress to being 21 again and do some doughnuts in my mini-van.