Flipping channels a few minutes ago, I came across some live music on KBDI, one of the public TV stations in Denver. It's a bunch of old guys, so I figure it's one of those reunion shows--think "A Mighty Wind". I listen closer. Hey, those guys are rocking pretty hard--good on 'em. It always makes me happy to see musical elder statesmen playing with their chops intact. Then the camera pulls in for a tight shot of the lead singer's face. Holy crap. That's Michael Stipe.
And Peter Buck, and Bill Berry, and Mike Mills. Oh, yes, my sprightly little monkeys. The bunch of old guys were, in fact, R.E.M.
You could probably hear my hear my brain sizzle during the mini-meltdown that followed. I listened to them in high school. They can't be--because that would mean that I am--and that does not compute. Must...consult...Google. My search revealed that the band members range in age from 48 to 52. I actually found myself thinking with great relief, "That explains why they look so much older."
How interesting. I've never perceived myself as particularly ageist. Intellectually, 39 is young and 50 isn't even close to mid-life. But don't lump me in with those guys! I appreciate the club but I'm not ready to join.
I guess there's a part of me that still feels like I'm in my 20's, and there's a bit of a jolt when I bump up against reality. Not in a "those-were-the-best-years-of-my-life" way. I can lay claim to the experiences, but I seem to have amnesia in terms of the actual bead of years moving along the timeline. For instance, I forget my age and think of myself as being too young to have kids. Until I see some high school senior or Paolo Nutini and do the math. (Yeah, that's a kicker, when the young celeb held up to you as an object of desire could be your offspring.)
So. What of this age thing? It brings me back around to my original questions. What have I done with these 29--I mean, 39 years? What will I do next? How do I create a life that best expresses who I am?
Next post.
