Round and round

I do love seeing ‘youngsters’ strutting their stuff around town, thinking they look cool and original in their flared trousers, their Mohican hairstyle or their funky leg warmers. They think they look ‘new-wave, original, trend setting’.

Bless.

Because let’s face it, there’s nothing you see that hasn’t been done or worn before. The early 70’s had their hippies and their flares, the mid-late 70’s had punk with their spiky hair and the early 80’s had Leroy from Fame who got pretty much the entire nation wearing leg warmers.

Of course, there is a world of difference between feeling young and actually being young. When I was a mature student, I worked at a North London school part time so I wouldn’t be absolutely penniless; I was about 27.

I mean, I feel young now but 12 years ago (blimey, is it honestly that long?), I REALLY felt young.

Not however, according to the students I worked with who ranged between 11 and 17 years old.

I am smiling as I type when I remember one student who must have been about 12, asking me my age and when I told him, responded with, “oh my god, that is OLD man”.

Cue much laughter from his peers.

And I guess to him, a 12 year old and all his friends, I was old. The fact that I didn’t feel it was neither here nor there. Being twice the age of someone automatically qualifies you as O.L.D.
Irrespective of how old I felt when I was at the school however, had no bearing on how I felt away from the school. In fact, I would say that being 27 is pretty ok.

None of that teenage angst to contend with, you’re doing things you actually want to be doing (or at least have chosen to do), you are happy with who you are and so on.

And, for a while, you unknowingly walk the fine line between the two camps; young and old, until, one day, you sense the shift, the slight change whereby you have teetered for long enough and slipped, ever so gently into the jaws of (that dreaded term) middle age.

What?

Middle age? Don’t be ridiculous, I’m only in my late thirties!

Yes? What age did you think the term “middle age” applies to?

I never gave it much thought.

50 maybe?

60?

Well, stone me, you are right.

I. Am. Middle. Aged.

Crumbs.

I sure don’t feel any different. Sure, as I’ve mentioned in the past I’ve got a few grey hairs, lost a few others but…… but what?

I just never noticed leaving my youth behind.

That doesn’t mean it hasn’t gone.

No. No I guess it doesn’t.

Shame.

Anyway, Joseph and I are going to the barber’s on Thursday to get a funky haircut, then into the retro clothes shop for some bell bottoms.

Nice.