
I’ve always been of the opinion that the 30s are the new 20s. By your thirties, you’ve really dialed in on how to have a good time without spending countless hours and dollars in places you don’t really enjoy (I’m looking at you, dance clubs). By your 30s, you know what you like, and you’ve gotten damn good at it.
I’ve always assumed that there was a specific age when suddenly you were issued a pair of beige Velcro sneakers, high-rise pleated chinos and a reserved seat at the Old Country Buffet. I figured that crossing that threshold would come with an AARP card and a secret handshake, and until that day, I’d have all the vim, vigor and virility of youth. But, now that I’m coasting down the decline of my 30s arc, I’ve begun to feel, well, old.
Getting older has its quirks, setbacks and advantages. I find myself experiencing the things that I’ve always strictly ascribed to old people, for better or worse.
Now I can:
- Fart at the urinal without hesitation or shame.
- Impress young people by telling them that I saw E.T. at the drive-in theater when it first came out (and then explain what E.T. was [and then explain what drive-in theaters were]).
- Take naps.
- Leave the bar by 8pm without losing social standing.
- Complain about the noise kids are listening to these days.
- Dispense gratuitous advice.
- Stay in on holidays to avoid the shit-show put on by amateur drinkers.
- Eat Rolaids like the candy they appear to be.
- Use the phrase “When I was your age…”
- Vote in mid-term elections.
- Never go to a dance club again.
- Wear glasses.
- Take genuine interest in conversations about the weather and gardening.
- Reminisce about my childhood’s coolest gadgets: the Walkman, ghetto blasters, sticks.
- Have long conversations with my mom about baking techniques and the most effective cleaning products.
- Go outside in slippers.
- Have an anecdote for any occasion and repeat them often to the same disinterested audience.
- Listen to AM radio.
- Apply my skills in observation and analysis to bowel movements.
- Maintain the same wardrobe and be fashionable, then outdated, then ahead of the curve, then fashionable— being able to claim “before it was cool” every few years with no effort.
- Complain about prices. Postage stamps used to cost a quarter! Gumball machines cost a penny and Jolly Ranchers cost a dime! Movie tickets cost a fiver! When did men’s underwear get so damn expensive (because I can’t remember the last time I bought any)?
- Consider price per ounce rather than price per package at the grocery store.
- Examine my increasing number of gray hairs and view them as dignifying.
- Go to bed before 9pm if I feel like it.
- Display disgust at anyone who sleeps past 7am.
- Simplify my life by losing something and forgetting something every day.
- Croon and make faces at random babies…and make them cry.
- Reheat coffee, because waste trumps taste.
- Value ease and comfort more than appearance (you’re starting to look pretty good, Velcro…).
- Observe that some of my possessions have gone from new to vintage to antique.
- Use the phrase “they don’t make ‘em like they used to” without irony.
- Huff and groan when I get off the couch.
- Observe that the PYTs behind the counter at Starbucks now call me “sir.” Also observe that I use phrases like “PYT.”
- Start planning what I’m going to make for dinner at noon.
- Appreciate the value of a good set of Tupperware.
- Read with interest my annual Social Security benefits accrual report.
- Actually look at people’s pics of their babies on Facebook.
- Observe that aging presents a kind of second puberty: hair suddenly finds more places to grow.
- Drink beer, liquor and wine strictly for the taste.
- Become a regular visitor to WebMD to look up a host of new, weird symptoms.
- Begin to consider nutrition: what the hell is potassium and why do I need it?
- Yell at people who are driving too fast or blocking the crosswalk.
- Describe what my neighborhood was like back in the day.
- Force children to endure me reading books to them like the grandfather in “The Princess Bride.”
- Force young people to endure me quoting “The Princess Bride.”
- Remove my high school GPA from my résumé.
- Lament that trees aren’t for climbing anymore and that hammers, saws and scrap wood aren’t playthings for today’s kids.
- Empathize with my parents and grandparents.
- Appreciate the value of a good pair of socks.
- Know exactly what Preparation H is for.
- Trim my own hair to save thirty dollars.
- Attend matinée showings of any movies I want to see in the theater.
- Pay less for auto insurance while steadily becoming a worse driver.
- Make sure I pee before leaving any place with indoor plumbing.
- Repeatedly press 0 in the hopes of simply stating my question to a live person on the other end of any toll-free number.
- Read the dosage instructions on over-the-counter medicines.
- Maintain very strict rules about how bath towels should be folded.
- Load the dishwasher like a boss.
- Call my family on important holidays.
- Add to the analects of my life from the crazy perspectives of the elderly.
- Sit quietly on park benches.
- Attempt repair before replacement.
- Sew on a button.
- Finally understand and embrace the expression: “A stitch in time saves nine.”
- Measure twice, cut once.
- Enjoy the simplicity and satisfaction of working with my hands.
- Find that I’m often too tired or lazy to masturbate.
- Take comfort in routine, knowing that if I so much as switch up which arm gets washed first in the shower, my whole day will be chaos.
- Remember when coffee shops served “coffee.”
- Appreciate that I have a mind like a computer…at capacity; if I’m to learn something new, I now must forget something else to make space for it.
- Complain about politics around the clock.
- Wince at the hairstyles in old school photos.
- Flirt with younger women and feel totally fine with it.
- Search for (and often find) really useful doodads in my junk drawer before buying anything new.
- Ask for directions.
What are the things you’ve gained and lost?