The following was paid for by John Brodigan for a Better America
"Soon I'll be thirty. I don't want to be thirty." - Moxy Fruvous
The wee younglings I work with at the mall are often surprised when they discover that I'm, shall we say, approaching the second anniversary of my 29th birthday. One them talks about me to his friends, about how I still find dick and fart jokes funny, and uses me as an example for how's there's hope for them all. They all refer to me as "that guy." And it's not just me. A lot of the "older" crew that I run with is the same way.
I remember when I was a wee one myself, I'd wonder at what point I was going to cut the hair, stop listening to the Metal, stop watching the wrestling, etc. The hair may have been cut (since even though I still live in my parents basement, I don't want to look like I still live in my parents basement), but the heavy metal and the wrestling are still there. There was never a point when I stopped watching cartoons, and may even watch more now than I did then.
I'm often amazed at how none of us have, for lack of a better term, "grown up." I was even more amazed to see the topic as the cover story for New York Magazine. So sayeth the authors:
"It's more interesting as evidence of the slow erosion of the long-held idea that in some fundamental way, you cross through a portal when you become an adult, a portal inscribed with the biblical imperative "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: But when I became a man, I put away childish things." This cohort is not interested in putting away childish things. They are a generation or two of affluent, urban adults who are now happily sailing through their thirties and forties, and even fifties, clad in beat-up sneakers and cashmere hoodies, content that they can enjoy all the good parts of being a grown-up (a real paycheck, a family, the warm touch of cashmere) with none of the bad parts (Dockers, management seminars, indentured servitude at the local Gymboree). It's about a brave new world whose citizens are radically rethinking what it means to be a grown-up and whether being a grown-up still requires, you know, actually growing up."
Now, there was a bit of psychobabble in the article, and definitely some mocking. There was also the indignity of using a Star Trek reference, "Grupps," to label our kind. Personally, I always dug the label Generation X, but so be it. The article as a whole was still what a number of friends and I have commented on recently - about how we may take on adult responsibilities, we don't actually grow up -and it doesn't matter if we're budding rockstars, struggling entrepreneurs, or simply two dudes looking to conquer the world one blog post at a time.
And you know what? There's nothing wrong with that. We all have jobs. Some of us have homes and spouses and children. We even have more "mature" interests. We just haven't let go off our "less mature" ones. I enjoy watching Sen. John McCain interview on Meet the Press the same way I enjoy Mick Foley cutting a promo on RAW. The Complete West Wing DVD sits right next to the Complete G.I. Joe. My MP3 player has Zeppelin and Taking Back Sunday, Prince and Kanye, Kenny Rogers and Big and Rich. We all do.
I don't know where I'm going with this. I'm not even sure I was going anywhere in the first place. I was just amused to see an something that amuses me about my friends and I on the cover or New York Magazine.