Youth is Wasted on the Stupid

Is it possible to just wake up one day and realize that you are old? Having reached my "late 30s" with 40 poking its head around the corner and glowering at me, I guess its really no wonder I've been thinking about this lately. But, as this past week went by, several things happened which made me think, "Wow, I'm getting old."

First, a co-worker asked if my 20th high school reunion was this year. It turns out that it was hers and since we're relatively the same age, she thought my reunion would be this year too. No, my 20th year high school reunion is next year. Has it been 20 years already? It seems like just yesterday I was arguing with Mr. White over the fact that a conjunction used to join two independent clauses requires a comma. Oh, to be 17 and debating grammar with adults again. It also reminded me that Linda Stone's baby, which she had in 1986, could quite possibly be in college now ... or *gasp* even have children of her own. Could it be possible that my high school friends could be grandparents? I think I'm going to throw up.

Next, I get an email from a college friend about our 15 year college reunion this year. Has it been 15 years already? It seems like just yesterday that I had to listen to Stickman make the argument that Tiffany was better than Debbie Gibson. Although this issue seemed relevant 19 years ago, oddly, this same debate continued unabated last summer at our friends' wedding. Stickman remains steadfast in his love for Tiffany although she hasn't done much for years. Can Tiffany boast about Broadway and Skating with Celebrities? I thought not. Wait, maybe that just supports his point.

Then, I remember to call my friend in New Mexico to wish her a happy 40th birthday. That one's pretty self-explanatory. As an aside, she shares my passion for tacky postcards, American Idol, the World Series, and demonstrates a fanatical devotion to all things Alpine Alpa: Ohio's Showplace of Cheese Making. Please, check it out.

Finally, earlier in the week a group of us were discussing out first concert. Mine, sadly, was Juice Newton. I can't really explain it now but I think it involved free tickets or something. It was the 80s, the Zeitgeist demanded Juice Newton concerts. Fast forward to last evening. I'm having a cocktail at a local watering hole and what should start playing but the video for "Playing with the Queen of Hearts." I mentioned this to the barely 21 year old boyfriend of a friend that I went to the Juice Newton concert (always a real conversation starter).

"Who?"

"Juice Newton, she's singing this song. You probably weren't even born yet," I joked.

"What year did you see her?"

"1984."

"What time of year?"

"Summer."

"No, I wasn't born yet."

That whole exchange was like a punch in the stomach. How could I be in a bar talking to someone who wasn't even born when I went to my first concert? I quickly finished my drink and called for another. It's probably not all that bad. W. Somerset Maugham summed it us best. "It is an illusion that youth is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it." Now if only I could find my glasses ...