One afternoon while I was hanging out on a local patio, a group of people not much older than myself strolled by and some 20-somethings at the next table referred to them as 'geezers.' Geezers!
I had always thought Whistler was a sort of melting pot where everyone regardless of age and nationality all melded into one happy, active, good looking and yes, ageless society. Was I wrong?
After quickly running to the bathroom to check my appearance, I was relieved to see that I didn't look THAT old. But the fact is, I'm middle aged dammit. Bring on the diapers.
It's frightening. Just when my peers got through the rash of 40th birthdays, the 50ths are cropping up like a mushroom cloud.
The sayings 'Age is just a number,' and 'You're only as old as you feel,' give me little comfort. I've always been overly concerned with age and not achieving my goals in a timely manner (ie: Fitness- still elusive).
Of course age is all-relative. I was once referred to as a young'un on an island up the coast populated heavily by retirees. I was so tickled that I now spend my entire summers up there, feeling young and dewy.
Looking back on my birthdays, I remember being ecstatic on my 19th birthday, legal drinking age, but then felt old when I turned 20, but then happy again when I turned 21, U.S. legal. Thirty didn't bother me but 35 did. At the time I was very concerned that gardening and golf interested me. Now at the ripe-ish age of 48, (wow, am I brave!) I find myself in the liquor store smirking while watching a 12-year-old get carded. The smirk is quickly extinguished when the little snot nosed infant turns out to be 25. And a doctor.
" Each generation imagines itself to be more intelligent than the one that went before it, and wiser than the one that comes after it."
Since the beginning of time, it seems every generation carries some disdain for the other. Stereotypes being that old people are slow and square and young people are lazy, undisciplined and have things way easier than the generation before it.
Worried that I too would start sounding like my parents: "When I was your age, I had to walk 20 miles to school in a snowstorm....blah blah," I thought back to my own hardships when I moved to Whistler in the 80's. You know, the olden days when you had to hike to 7th Heaven and there was no such thing as a high-speed quad. At the time I felt adult and worldly, until the restaurant I was supposed to work at burned down, there was a brutal cold snap and I couldn't get to the crappy little place I had rented in Emerald. Soon I was on the phone crying to my mommy and daddy, like a 5-year-old, asking for money.
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