I used to own a bar, and one of the patrons was a young lady, probably around 23 or 24. I was about 40 at the time. We were hanging out, playing pool, during a slow spell. We were talking about life.
She was working on some sort of advanced degree at UCSC. I asked her if she lived close to campus. She told me about the room she was renting in a nearby house. She said it was a “dope house”. I didn’t say anything for a moment, then she looked at me and said, “’dope’ means it’s cool.”
Now, I know what “dope” means. But I also know that a “dope house” can mean two things. It was more the way she assumed that I was out of touch. And I supposed I was, a bit, but it was the way she assumed it that made me realize I was getting older.
Also around the time I was 40, I went to a wedding. I’m used to hanging out with the younger, party crowd and getting wild. But, this time, everyone was very polite and deferential to me. I realized that I was the “adult” sitting at the “kids” table, possibly spoiling their fun, so I found another group to sit with.
I was in law school at that time, as an older student. I did not feel like a peer, but rather an outsider, in subtle ways. Nothing overt, just unexpected politeness. That’s another time that I realized I was in a completely different class of people, due to my age.
I started seeing photographs of myself, taken by friends, on Facebook, and did not immediately recognize myself. In some of them, I looked fine. In others, I looked haggard and wrinkled and tired.
I don’t mind. That’s what happens. I even like to joke about my age, if for no other reason than to let people know that I am not defensive about it.
I want people to know it’s ok to joke about it with me, rather than treat me like an outcast who will get cranky just because someone mentions age.
