Talkin’ Bout My (de)Generation
August 14, 2007 – 7:06 pm | by nerd's eye view
I try to avoid the me me me sort of stuff that fills a lot of blogs. If I’m writing about something, I exert a little effort to transcend the mundaneness of daily existence. That’s why when I write Fish Wednesday, I frame it in the context of environmentalism or cooking. Or if I go do something, I don’t write about it unless I want to warn you to avoid it or think it’s something you’d also enjoy. Occasionally, I’ll step up on the old soap box and rant about the political, but even that I keep to a minimum. Rambling editorializing about crap that’s only interesting to me is boring to you. So I beg your forgiveness while I wander off on a brief diversion that goes as follows: F*ck this, I am falling apart. God dammit.
Last week I had a little medical issue. I’ll spare you the details and thankfully, it turned out to be almost nothing. Woot. But here’s what pissed me off about it. The doc, upon diagnosis of my common non-issue said this: “You know, when you get to be about your age [fill in the blank].” And I am aggravated about that.
Then, today, I went to have an eye exam. About a month ago, I noticed that my glasses were just not working so good any more. Nothing tragic, but what the hell? And what does my doc say to me? He says, “You’re - oh, look. Usually this happens a year or so earlier. I’m not surprised at all…you are going to need bifocals.” He sent me off, pupils dilated like a junkie that just found a twenty on the bus, with a script for new lenses. “You’re probably going to need bigger frames than the ones you’ve got,” he said, condemning me to the rest of my life in frames that make me look like Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie rather than the Euro-Japanese hipster look I favor. Damn you, eye doctor! Damn you Father Time! [Insert fist shaking to the heavens here.]
Next week, I’m off for a physical. And I just know my doctor, well meaning as she is, is going to mention some kind of offensive crap about my slowing metabolism and bone density and a bunch of other things I do not want to hear one tiny word about. Not one. We are going to have to talk about the fact that my gene pool is ridden with all kinds of hereditary evils. Good brains and teeth we got, but the rest of it? A Chernobyl cocktail of central European slush. Bleh. I am going to scowl at her, refuse medication (and resuscitation), and stomp out of the office in a teenage snit.
I whined about my declining youth to two friends, both very close to me in age. One told me that had we been born several generations earlier, we’d be dead by now. My other friend told me that it’s all downhill from here. Both responses are completely accurate but neither implies a course of action, and I’m an action figure kinda person. I am not quite ready to buy a skirted tank swim suit and start taking water aerobics. I am also not interested in getting a convertible and a trophy boyfriend, well, not in any more than an academic way, though I look okay and am very funny and any young man would be lucky to… no, let’s put a stop to that line of thinking. Plus, oh, yeah, married. No, those are all bad plans.
Not to worry, I’m on it. Last week I borrowed an electric uke on the loan-to-own plan. And yesterday, I picked up an amp. Dude, it’s really loud, and yes, I said “Dude.” I’ve been messing with it, seeing how much distortion I can get out of it without having an effects rack and yes, I said effects rack. I realize that my mid-life crisis is kind of a weird one, but it would be so boring to go mainstream. Tennis pro? No thanks. Convertible? Fun, but I’m not in to cars. I could quit my job and go see the world, but that’s something I do regularly anyway.
Nope, I’m going to work through this phase by playing bluegrass versions of disco tunes on my electric uke. I’m going to memorize the chords so I don’t have to wear glasses to read the music. I’m going to dress in black like Johnny Cash because it goes with the uke. I’m going to fight it all the way. If I’m going downhill, I’m going downhill swinging, without dignity or shame. Time, you might be after me, but you bastard, you’re gonna have to catch me first.
Join in on the chorus, okay? Dm>Gm7>C>F>Bb>Eb>A>A7
Event Note: Our “band”, the Flip Flops, is the opening entertainment for Rainbow Bingo on Friday night. “You don’t have to be gay to play!” Drag queens, the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, and Fabulous Prizes. We’re on early, at 5:30, playing mostly 60’s beach tunes. Afterwards, we’re going to trash a hotel room.
15 Responses to “Talkin’ Bout My (de)Generation”
By lilalia on Aug 15, 2007 | Reply
Now, don’t get me wrong, “being taken off the stage kicking and screaming” is a good strategy, but still, you might want to rethink it. For, it can be costly (e.g., think of all the surgery costs, and cost to your dignity), time-consuming, and the outcome is predictable. Just look at gossip magazine gala photos with a table of 50 and over women, each looking like a Frankenstein clone. Boy, is that frightening.
My only advice would be to expand your horizons, befriend those far older than you and much younger than you. One of my best friends is ninety and if you would listen to our conversations, you’d think she was a youngster. If you can talk about love, life, death, and dying with someone who has experienced most of these things over decades, there is more substance to their words.
By nerd's eye view on Aug 15, 2007 | Reply
Oh, heavens, I didn’t mean to imply that I was going to go under the knife. Hell no. Ick. I just meant that I wasn’t going to go quietly and that while I might be more careful about what I eat, I also might decide to take up a perfectly ridiculous age inappropriate pursuit, like pretending I’m a rock star.
Or kite-boarding.
By Beth on Aug 15, 2007 | Reply
I say fight the good good fight! You don’t have to go under the knife to stay young but you have to stay young in spirit. Rid your vocabulary of phrases such as “At my age, I would never….”, “I wore that when I was a teenager…”, “Kids today…..”, and all those other phrases are parents said to us when we were young. Try new things! Keep doing all the fun stuff that you have been doing all of your life. And finally, I have samll glasses and I think that offically I have trifocals. You can glasses that are still cool.
By Ben on Aug 15, 2007 | Reply
I think you’re on point - the key is living a full life, and not suddenly beginning to “act your age” once your body reminds you time has not stood still. Too many do just that and become kermudgeonly and boring - they want to live a “safe” life.
It’s funny, going to the doctor’s never scared me as a little boy…now I absolutely loathe it.
By Nina on Aug 15, 2007 | Reply
It’s so much better to have a cool doctor. I’ve had bad doctor experiences for years, on par with those visits to department store cosmetic counters. Both give you the impression that you’re totally falling apart, which is bullshit. Though I rarely went to those counters anyway, I refuse to go at all now, and I can detect one of those doctors a mile away. My doctor is funny and laid-back, and doesn’t stress me out. Avoid those medical fire-and-brimstone MFs and seek out good-natured doctors with a sense of humor. Maybe one who plays the uke.
And how much do I love the idea of playing bluegrass versions of disco tunes? Jeff Autry covers the Bee Gees.
By nerd's eye view on Aug 15, 2007 | Reply
Solidarity, my 40something (give or take 10) friends. Thanks for the off the grid emails too, you know who you are. No, we don’t think we’re that old and yeah, what the hell with feeling like we’ve been run over by a car when we get out of bed in the morning? What the hell?
It’s time for one of these.
By Claire F on Aug 15, 2007 | Reply
Now, just one minute you little whippersnappers. If you think that a table full of, ahem, fifty-year-olds looks like Frankenstein, take a gander at your junior high yearbook, or anyone else’s for that matter. Wise words, Pam, about taking better care of yourself. I’m in better shape and feel sexier and more beautiful than I ever did at thirty, or forty. But the real gift of hitting fifty isn’t realizing that you should cut loose and take up rock starring or kiteboarding. It’s realizing that you should have been doing it all along. Because we’ve always been future corpses.
By Sal DeTraglia on Aug 16, 2007 | Reply
Hey Nerd:
Do you know what will make you feel even younger? Posting a sound file of some electric uke jamming…that’s what. Extra distortion, please. Better still if you can borrow a wah-wah pedal from someone. Your devoted fans await.
And speaking as one who has met you in person, I can assure you that there’s nothing codgerly about you.
Rock on!
Sal
By lilalia on Aug 16, 2007 | Reply
Oh dear, Claire F, I didn’t mean to imply a table of fifty-year olds look like Frankenstein. Rather a table full of socialite fifty-year-olds who have been trying to compete with twenty-year-olds for the last twenty years do look very bizarre with their inflated lips, stressed skin, and their funny eyes.
Nerd, being a rock star… definitely, the right attitude. You do know that it is not only a matter of keeping young in spirit, but also becoming radical in spirit as well. I don’t know about you, but I did used to think that I knew so much and now I know nothing, this makes me feel so much more free to experiment.
By pam on Aug 16, 2007 | Reply
<p>I’ve met Claire in 3-D and she’s hot.
But that’s so not what I was on about. It’s not how I LOOK at 43. </p>
<p>What I’m on about is how the parts I use for looking - my eyes - and the other stuff that comprises the house for my spirit are starting to show wear and tear. The spirit itself, I think you all know, is in FINE mettle. </p>
<p>I’ve no desire to look like a 20 something supermodel, I’ve never really cared much about surface quality, plus, hello, cake! Still, it would be nice if my bones didn’t complain. Or my hereditary systems would stop behaving hereditarily. (That is not a word.) I don’t mind a few lines, gray hair, all that. I do mind the tests that are showing the INTERNAL results of being 43. And that I can’t read the clock radio when I wake up in the morning.</p>
You should know, I totally have the blood pressure of a 20 year old.
By Claire F on Aug 16, 2007 | Reply
What a nice thing to say, Pam, I think you’re a hottie, too. If it’s any comfort, I haven’t been able to see a clock since third grade - I wear a glow in the dark watch to bed, which I hold two inches from my eyes to tell time. All that other stuff will calm down (if for no other reason than you’ll get used to it or find the right combination of drugs, cake and alcohol.)
I agree with Sal, a sound file would be lovely, indeed. And thank you, Lilalia, for your comments (you’ve actually given me an idea for a blog post, something much appreciated as I find blogging hard as hell.)
By anne on Aug 19, 2007 | Reply
Hey now, I have a skirted swimsuit, and I look like a 50s movie star in it! Don’t be dissin’ on my fashion sense.
I agree with everything else, though. Oh! Except the implication that “rambling editorializing about crap that’s only interesting to me” might be boring, because you and I both know that if you do it right, what’s interesting to you becomes interesting to others.
By A. on Aug 21, 2007 | Reply
Hell ya! Ukuleles are it. I just learned Secret Agent Man (Hombre Secreto/Secret Agent Chick/Etc) on mine. Doing more rock/surf lately. I have an undersaddle pickup on order so I can go electric also. My husband has a nice electric stick uke that I keep borrowing so I decided to electrify mine for real just recently. If you go for an effects box Korg AX3G is one that we have. We have that and a Zoom stomp box that they don’t make anymore. You can model your own effects with those. You really should get a scooter if you don’t already- they are an absolute blast (get a 150cc or better so you can go go go) because “you know, when you get to be about your age…” you don’t have your whole life ahead of you so you have so much less to lose. Since it’s all downhill from here with a tailwind why not arrive happy. My mom did the big glasses thing to me when I was a kid so I made my optometrist put my progressive bifocals in tiny little frames anyway. Works fine. I’ve got John Lennon style specs at present. I am distressed by my new jowls even though I knew I would get them along about this point in life since I was a kid. I really enjoyed reading your blog- you very eloquently elucidated themes that are current in my life. I was just surfing for ukulele stuff when I found you. Thanks very much. Enjoyed the sound file you weren’t kidding about that bluegrass disco sound. Love it. Hope to see you on YouTube.
By Marilyn on Aug 22, 2007 | Reply
My first thought was, “But 43 is so YOUNG!”
(Seriously, just wait another decade…it’ll seem that way…ha!) I don’t give a sh*t about aging. Yes, I color my hair, but that’s more because I find the gray ANNOYING rather than for any cosmetic reason (which you would know if could see how I dress at work). I’ve needed those damn trifocals for years, but stubbornly refuse. All I know is that the older I get the more child-like I become (minus the drool…at least so far). I say, rock on!
By Dr Bearden on Jul 24, 2008 | Reply
I laughed about your experience at the eye doctor. You see, I AM an eye doctor and I will be 41 in a few weeks….so I feel your pain with the need for the dreaded “bifocal” now.
Just a suggestion….there are contact lenses that you can wear that allow you to see far away and close up for reading without the need for glasses. Ask your eye doctor about bifocal contact lenses and/or monovision contact lenses.
Also, there are different TYPES of progressive lenses (bifocals that have no line) that CAN fit into cool and hip frames….so you don’t need to be condemned to look like Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie!
Ask your eye doctor and/or optician to help you out…there are optical options out there for you to stay hip and cool