My peers, the men that were born in the early part of the 1970's - what the fuck happened to us? How did we get so goddamn old? Wasn't it just yesterday when we were snot-nosed pre-teens shooting the bird at the establishment? Now, we're hairy-nosed pre-geriatrics kissing ass to the establishment.
Wasn't it just yesterday when a bright future awaited us and optimism boiled in our blood? Now, we're regretting the choices we've made and hoping nothing negative (or positive) shows up in our blood.
As of today, I've been alive for 3.852 decades (yes, I've done the math, and I do it everyday). If I'm lucky (or unlucky, depending upon how you look at it), my life is half over. The saddest part about that is that for the rest my life, I'm gonna be old.
Our idols when we were kids, guys like Jimmy Page and Reggie Jackson and Jack Nicholson and O.J. Simpson, were the age we are now back then. Now, they're really fucking old. Roger Daltrey, the man who sang (and still sings), "I hope I die before I get old" is 67 and looks like Diane Keaton. He's so old, he's in nobody's generation.
We're at the age where we're beginning to be considered by Chelsea Handler-loving, Eat Pray Love-seeing ladies as "manthers or "men of a certain age". I don't deny that. Shit, I have grey pubic hair. I actually have pubic hair which, from what I understand, is a faux-pas in these manscaping times.
The women (and I use that term loosely) that I see at the bars these days were born three years after I became sexually active, which means that I technically could be their father. Most of them are creeped out by my antediluvian presence. The ones that somehow aren't pursue me either as a way of dealing with unresolved daddy issues or as an experiment, like college lesbianism. They don't have pubic hair. No women have pubic hair anymore, which is sad because, like Hank Moody, I think "an abundance of pubic hair" is nice.
I'm too old to join the armed forces (Bill Murray was supposed to be 27 in Stripes). I'm older than Shaq and almost as old as Brett Favre, two of the oldest players in sports (not including golf, which isn't really a sport). I'm not gonna harp on either of these issues though because as a diminutive Jew, there was no way I was gonna join the Marines or play for the Yankees anyway.
My joints hurt. My hangovers are brutal. I have wrinkles on top of wrinkles on top of veins. I'm tired. My libido is waning. I no longer have stamina. I get out of breath in the missionary position. I'm at the beginning of the male decline.
As much as I complain about being old, at least I'm not old AND female. While men of a certain age are described as "distinguished" or "worldly" or "Clooney-esque", women of a certain age are branded with descriptors such as "pre-menopausal" or "rode hard and put away wet" or "Aniston-esque".
If they're single, they're stuck going the cougar route, pursuing young men who are only banging them so they'll have a story to tell their fellow valet parkers. Otherwise, they're going after men that are way older than them (Daltrey-aged) because, like myself, any self-respecting man who hasn't yet hit his forties would never date a woman his age. Why? Because after their early-thirties, they're done. Just look at Kim Deal or Kim Gordon (or anyone named Kim for that matter).
If they're not single, they're maternal and frumpy and are suffering through shitty marriages with shitty kids. For them, it's probably better than being single for though.
I'm sorry to point out the sad but obvious truths of aging. However, we must get used to it because we're gonna be old for a long, long time (unless we're spared by an act of divine intervention). Let's make the best of it. No, let's not botox or dye or manscape. Let's not wear "hip" clothing that makes us look like we're desperate to fit in with kids who wouldn't have liked us even when we were their age. Let's not DJ or listen to techno or become a Juggalo. Let's evolve.
Let's become The Most Interesting Man in The World (or at least Anthony Bourdain). Let's become Alec Baldwin (not Stephen Baldwin). Let's put the past behind us and come to terms with the fact that our best days are long gone. Let's try to use what little youth we have left to better the Autumn of our years. Or, we could just be bitter. Isn't that what old men do?