Too Old to be Young

I'm not sure what "spring chickens" are, but they don't sound like anything that would describe me.

I find it humorous when people tell me things like, "You're still young," and "Back when I was your age," and "You look like a young George Clooney**."

Wait, is this what they mean?

In fact, many of the people I hear this stuff from aren't much older than I am now. I am surrounded by friends of different generations, and the age gaps don't always occur to me. Nor should they. Once you settle into any environment, you become a part of the larger picture, and that's how I usually see myself. But every once in a while I get a comment about my apparent youth, and it doesn't make me feel young. Quite the opposite, if only because I begin thinking about it at all.



As I get older, I'm seeing a lot of change in myself. For the purpose of this fine piece of work, I'll not go into the physical details of aging. Some of you have been there, and you know what happens. The world keeps spinning long after you want to stop, turn on the Homes and Gardens Network, and take a nap on the couch. As much as I never wanted this to happen to me, there are some things I just can't avoid.

Fortunately there are some things I can avoid.

My acknowledgment that I was on The Downhill Journey began in 2013, when I last visited Walt Disney World's Epcot Center. I'd been there a few years prior, and I rode the spinning, warning-laden attraction, Mission: Space. I rode as though I was a kid on a plastic horse spending my mom's quarters outside K-Mart. It was fantastic! So of course I wanted to ride it again when I went back. And ride it I did... sort of. In truth, I didn't so much "ride it" as much as I "barely survived the experience." As fortune and good decision-making would have it, we went immediately from Mission: Space to Biergarten Restaurant, a German smorgasbord of unfamiliar pastas, vegetables, and platters of meat-ish items. The requirements to enjoy this food is simple: You have to avoid Mission: Space if you are on "The Downhill Journey." Sadly, I neither knew about nor met the requirements. After pathetically attempting to eat mystery sausages and foods named with more consonants than vowels, I decided the next hour and a half would be better spent doing my best drunk hobo impression on a bench outside.

Have a *hiccup* magikl day. Ur rlly pretty....

The signs had really been there all along. My jump shot had turned into a bunny-hop. Short obstacles I'd previously hurdled with ease had magically grown many feet taller. Hangovers were no longer minor inconveniences as much as life-altering experiences. Being awake earlier than 8am on weekends was now acceptable, and after midnight was not. But my favorite expired ability was being able to play my most beloved genre of video games - survival horror. The scary ones. Here I was in the golden age of survival horror games, realizing my body did not want my character to turn on the light, or look in the box, or open the door. Why does my body now shake and shiver and perspire when my character walks along a dark hallway? Why can't I, too, enjoy the Silent Hills or the Resident Evils as so many others are blessed to do? Why am I feeling sick over the nervousness of doing something that used to be a joy? It's not right. It's not fair. It's not fun, but I had to admit that I could no longer do the things I was once able to do with the same enjoyment.

Do what now? Ok, I think I'm done. Time to go to church.

There's a reason I wanted to write this. With all the ways I have changed without actually consenting to it, there are many things that have and always will remain the same. It's one of those things that brings me back to writing, and that's my desire to express myself in a way that is appropriate for me. Aging has not changed that, but it has changed how I perceive that level of appropriateness as well as how I want to be perceived. While reading things I'd written in years past, I noticed a different attitude than what I have now. I'd always been so fiery and a bit careless, not necessarily looking for trouble but not looking to avoid it, either. If I wrote about something that riled me, you were practically able to see me gritting my teeth and curling my lip while reading it. Sure, I had fun things to say as well, but when it came to the big stuff, my writing would betray my nature. I think that's what I want to change. I don't want to ruffle feathers, nor do I want to avoid any response I feel is warranted. But I believe therein lies the difference. Much of what I felt was justifiable writing in the past I now see as immaturity due to my lack of restraint. I want to be more welcoming, more friendly, and maybe make you smile from time to time. I don't want to be an angry youth, nor do I want to be a grumpy old man. So I like to think I am exactly in the middle. I'm too young to be old, and I'm too old to be young.

**For legal reasons, I have to confess that no one has ever said I look like George Clooney even if he'd been birthed by obese, leprous apes, much less a healthy young man.