I was sitting watching TV the other evening.
I enjoy the International News and CNBC Financial. As always it was about global economics Greek Debt and financial troubles somewhere else in the world.
Everyday it seems some country has slipped into a recession or depression or averted one. Somewhere else they have announced a new round of fiscal stimulus packages by “quantitative easing” and cash incentives to taxpayers.
That’s when I stopped and thought to myself.
When did I start understanding, “Quantitative Easing”?
Oh my god, How old am I ?
Dinner used to be a schwarma on the way home, a subway or a burger.
Now I delight over a fine cooked meal I prepared for myself or for friends, a bottle of fine wine and a cheese plate before a fine dessert made by a pastry chef friend or bought at a patisserie on the way home.
I watch “Antiques Roadshow” when I’m by myself and the items they are finding are things I used to play with as a child.
I enjoy repeats of old movies rather than originals. “On Golden Pond”, “The Champ” and “National Velvet” ,”Ladyhawke”or “Apocolypse Now” make my day rather than some new modern witty diatribe by Hollywood actors not born when I was watching the movies I speak of.
The girls in the movies I love , Kristy McNichol, Michelle Pfeiffer et al, are now all older ladies.
Somewhere along the line I started listening to classical, violin even if it is Vanessa Mae, and Chill Out lowers my heart rate, rather than heavier tunes of my youth.
Instead of going to clubs and coffee with my friends I’m usually in bed by 10 rather than getting ready to go out at that time.
By three or four in the morning when they are coming home, I'm getting up to go to the bathroom or back at my desk writing.!!
"My God” when did I get old? And why does my brain not feel it, just the body look it..
Some things are better unsaid.
Who ever said it was better to tell the truth and shame the devil, obviously did not have some one telling them the whole truth or friends like mine.
A young Work colleague, Cristal, said she had met an elderly lady at a night out, “about your age James, 50!”
“Ouch”, now that hurt. I am a long way from 50.
“ Have I really begun to look that old,” I foolishly queried, of my younger colleague.
Sadly she continued.
“…No you have not really changed , you have had the same wrinkles around you eyes for years and the white hairs just make you more sophisticated.”
“You’re just getting more mature and distinguished, sophisticated.”
If there had been a wheel chair handy I would have climbed into it there and then and wheeled my self into a retirement home.
Forget that I thought. My parents are old, not me.
Today the slippers went into the garbage. The rug that used to sit across my legs at night, went back into the cupboard and the air conditioning turned down, and the Dvd's I like to watch have been replaced with more modern titles with very little substance.
I refuse to be labeled old, sophisticated or distinguished.
I know my lingo of youth, LOL and CU L8tr.
Tonight I am throwing caution to the wind and going clubbing. I promise myself not to be home before dawn.
I just hope that’s not too far away, the legs after all aren’t in the condition they used to be. And I do adore my bed so much, hope I see it soon.
Long live immaturity and may none of us age before its time
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