So, my boss' birthday was on Monday. He was born on the same year that I was. Which makes him 28, and in some few months I will be also. Which got me thinking about youth, and the aging process.
Aussies for some reason make a big deal out of their 21st birthday (okay, that one I kinda get), as well as their 30th (this one I don't get). Even as a kid I knew that schooldays were gonna be the best days of my life. Think about it; only half a day in an institution, half of that time goofing off and the other half bullying the teachers. Was so successful that one year my class made each and every teacher cry and run out of the classroom, except our Biology teacher. Who was 6'6", 250lbs and looked like a former Marine DI. (As an aside, he looked like he could not only tear us a new asshole, but do it with his hands tied behind his back, too. Our little antics didn't faze him at all). Compare that with working 8-6 Mon-Fri with a noose around your neck every day (except Casual Fridays, which is alright). And maybe 1 month of vacation, including public hols.
At 28, people will still say you're young. But you're not young young. And part of the problem is when your mind doesn't catch up with your body. This is perhaps the most disconcerting aspect of aging, I find. That, and finding out that many people you know are already married with children. Where does the time go?
See, here's the thing. No surprise to know that adolescent boys are attracted to adolescent girls, right? Of course, it is true that adolescent boys are attracted to females, period. And they're a perpetually horny lot too. Brash, crass, do stuff without thinking, generally acting the way you'd expect a teenager to act.
What happens when that fellow grows up, though? You'd think some degree of maturity would set in. But I find to my dismay this is not the case. I still exhibit, to a large degree, the same characteristics I did 10 years ago. Which, when I think about it, means I haven't grown and changed much at all; now tell me this is all right. You won't, right?
Specifically, I am still perpetually horny, girls in pinafores can still get me going (let's not talk about Japanese schoolgirl uniforms here, okay?), I still play computer games, my parents still get on my case, I'm still tactless and impulsive - you know, nothing much has changed from 10 years ago from my perspective. Except I have a job that I like and I'm good at and I get paid a halfway decent amount for.
Now, what does that all mean? I can conjecture one of two things; either I was already pretty mature back in '98, or I'm a highly-functioning retard with the mental age of 18. Or 15, for that matter. Considering that I call myself a moronblogger, of course the latter is far more likely. Still...
And I am not alone. In certain European countries, people my age still stay with their parents, and are still jobless, and are still acting like the typical teenage punk. I'd love to tie the liberals into this as well, associating govt with parents and nanny-statism and whatnot, but I'm talking about individuals here.
I don't wanna grow old! And I don't want to stay a perpetual youngster either! Life is indeed a complex affair. And you know what? I love it! Because in my mind I'm still a teenager, it's hard for me to grow old. But even as a teenager I was a pretty conservative and world-savvy fellow, so it's not as if I'm still naive.
Over the next few weeks I think I'd like to explore several aspects of my youth, mostly concentrating on my school years.
1 comment:
Better get used to it--it never changes. I'm in my mid-50's and sex/women are never very far from my mind. Every women is always viewed as a potential sex partner. It happens automatically. It happens subconsciously. It happens by choice. Sometimes, when many women are present like in a market or other traget-rich environment, it consumes only fractions of a second. Unless some woman really stands out to your peference. Not to worry, your biological sensors don't discriminate against those you know you have no chance with, nuns for example. It gets worse when you actually get a chance to spend time with them. Then a quick 'no' turns into a 'maybe' or a 'yes' with an unique smile or facial gesture, her scent, her laugh, her shoulder blade--any one of a million possibilities.
I don't know when it ends. When it does for me I'll tell you. With age comes a bit of wisdom. And self-control. But the feelings and mechanism are there always. Deal. And drop the guilt. You are not alone. And we never let women know. I think they may suspect, though.
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