Men of a Certain Age…
I watched this new TV series this evening. I’d watched it before and found it well written and an excellent cast. Amusing, insightful and almost too truthful. But the men of a “certain” age are in their forties. I found the series engaging and one that I could relate to. And then it hit me, I’m twenty years older than any of the men in this series and I’m thinking that this is my peer group. In truth, when I was forty, most of my peer group was in their late 20’s early 30’s, and I realized that as I’ve gotten older, once my peer group hit forty, I have found younger people to hang out with in addition to my “older” friends.
Never mind that they refer me as “Uncle” Jack; it’s endearing after all and I’m old enough to be most of their fathers, or worst, grandfather! At least they don’t call me “gramps” to my face.
My assessment of all of this is rather depressing… I’ve growen… I can’t even say it. The word is “Old!!!”
But the new forty is sixty, right? Because the simple fact of the matter is, if I don’t work for another fifteen years, I’m never going to be able to retire. But then what would I do if I did that?
When I moved from my twenties to my thirties I didn’t think much about it. I didn’t look much different, didn’t act much different, I was the same guy. But toward the end of the thirties I did start to put on some weight, and I did look a little older. No big deal, watch what I eat and I dropped the pounds. (And those men’s face creams that became popular then, wow!)
When I turned forty, I noticed that the Time Magazine that came out that very week had the headline on the front page “Baby Boomers Turn Forty”. I was so in denial that I really thought it was my thirty-ninth birthday, not my fortieth!
The fortieth birthday went pretty much unnoticed other than being dragged up on stage at a local San Francisco hot spot and made a spectacle of by the singing group “The Pink Things” with all the honors one would expect of such a performance.
Then I turned fifty! FIFTY! WHAT THE HELL, when did that happen???? And it was celebrated in a grand style with a garden party hosted by my sister and catered by my favorite Chinese restaurant. In my usual style, as it was an Asian theme party, replete with Chinese lanterns held by bamboo polls, everyone was required to wear silk to the party. And a roast by all my “oldest and dearest” friends, that as “Mame” put it best, “Your sense of style is far off as your youth, who else but a good companion could point out the obvious truths!”
But it seemed clear to me, I’m on the down side of the slope.
And there you have it. I’m a man of a certain age, just not of that age.
Hey, maybe they can make a TV series about that as well!
I watched this new TV series this evening. I’d watched it before and found it well written and an excellent cast. Amusing, insightful and almost too truthful. But the men of a “certain” age are in their forties. I found the series engaging and one that I could relate to. And then it hit me, I’m twenty years older than any of the men in this series and I’m thinking that this is my peer group. In truth, when I was forty, most of my peer group was in their late 20’s early 30’s, and I realized that as I’ve gotten older, once my peer group hit forty, I have found younger people to hang out with in addition to my “older” friends.
Never mind that they refer me as “Uncle” Jack; it’s endearing after all and I’m old enough to be most of their fathers, or worst, grandfather! At least they don’t call me “gramps” to my face.
My assessment of all of this is rather depressing… I’ve growen… I can’t even say it. The word is “Old!!!”
But the new forty is sixty, right? Because the simple fact of the matter is, if I don’t work for another fifteen years, I’m never going to be able to retire. But then what would I do if I did that?
When I moved from my twenties to my thirties I didn’t think much about it. I didn’t look much different, didn’t act much different, I was the same guy. But toward the end of the thirties I did start to put on some weight, and I did look a little older. No big deal, watch what I eat and I dropped the pounds. (And those men’s face creams that became popular then, wow!)
When I turned forty, I noticed that the Time Magazine that came out that very week had the headline on the front page “Baby Boomers Turn Forty”. I was so in denial that I really thought it was my thirty-ninth birthday, not my fortieth!
The fortieth birthday went pretty much unnoticed other than being dragged up on stage at a local San Francisco hot spot and made a spectacle of by the singing group “The Pink Things” with all the honors one would expect of such a performance.
Then I turned fifty! FIFTY! WHAT THE HELL, when did that happen???? And it was celebrated in a grand style with a garden party hosted by my sister and catered by my favorite Chinese restaurant. In my usual style, as it was an Asian theme party, replete with Chinese lanterns held by bamboo polls, everyone was required to wear silk to the party. And a roast by all my “oldest and dearest” friends, that as “Mame” put it best, “Your sense of style is far off as your youth, who else but a good companion could point out the obvious truths!”
But it seemed clear to me, I’m on the down side of the slope.
And there you have it. I’m a man of a certain age, just not of that age.
Hey, maybe they can make a TV series about that as well!
