So the 37th birthday is fast approaching. I’m officially late 30’s now. No longer can I refer to myself as "mid-30’s". Of course, in the gay world, I’m reaching the daddy stage. Another 10 years and I’ll be considered obsolete. Not that I give a flying fuck mind you. I get a giggle out of how we perceive age in Western culture. It’s as if the idea of having shiny new possessions has transferred itself into our collective consciousness regarding self-image. It doesn’t help we are constantly bombarded by images of the young and beautiful. Images re-enforced with the message that if you want to be accepted you have to look the part. As my English counterparts might say, "bollocks to that!" Age is a state of mind. You are only as old as you feel. And frankly, I don’t feel that old. And never really being someone who "fit in" in the first place, I’m not about to start trying now.
I was teasing my buddy Urswine Addiction the other day about being an old man.1 It suddenly hit me that my own birthday is fast approaching. I look back on the span of years that is my life and it doesn’t really feel like 37 years have passed. I’m sure focusing so many years on just surviving has something to do with it. That said, I think there is more to it. I don’t feel 37. Hell, I barely feel 30. Maybe it is because my life is still in a bit of flux. I’m still looking at changing gears career wise. And lord knows, I’ve struggling emotionally in the last 7 years. Do these things play their part in my feelings of "not old"? I do wonder. I mean most guys my age are settled by now. I’m left to wonder if my late start in life has helped me hold onto my feelings of youthfulness.2
In the end, I guess I really don’t care what it is that makes me feel so young. I like it and that is enough. So I’m not young, buff,
and hung, anymore. Big deal. My life has only improved as I age. Sure, there have been setbacks. Plenty to speak of actually. But isn’t that the point? Shouldn’t we care more about a life lived than a life perfect? So,I have a few less hairs on top, a few more hairs elsewhere, and a handful of wrinkles sprinkled in for flavor. As the ever fabulous Miss Coco Peru once said, ‘I earned it bitches!’
Of course, don’t mind me. I’m just a doddering old fool spouting off nonsense in his old age. Turn the page to something shiny and new. Ahhhhh! The bliss of forgetfulness. teehee