Remember when we were young, we shone like the sun…
I remember when we were young, we shone like the sun….
Current mood: 
rejuvenated
Last week I answered the eternal question as posed by eighties rock pigeon, Simon Le Bon “Is there Something I should know” with the somewhat smug and pseudo enigmatic answer, “Yes, once you hit 35, you calm down a bit and it’s all quite funny really.”
But there’s blogging mileage (or bloggage?) in that statement yet. What happens to you when you hit 35, really? Because something certainly does, and that’s why I really like being the age I am, even though a lot of my students are filled with pity when I tell them I’m 38, like I’m telling them I’ve got a year to live. I get the statement, “You’re never 38!” a lot and I’m sorry if some of you take me relating this fact to you as being conceited but, I don’t really think it’s actually a compliment. The statement says more about them than it does me.
First of all, THIS is what 38 looks like! That over there, that photo to the left! Pretty much all of my friends of 35+ look as old or as young as I do. I’m not flipping Cliff Richard! Even Cliff Richard isn’t Cliff Richard anymore!
Also, if you are able to look ok at 38 it probably means that like me (and my dad before me) that at the ages of 18-25 you looked like a kid and would often have to produce ID in pubs, explain to bus drivers that you weren’t a half-fare, and couldn’t get a member of the opposite sex to look at you as you looked like a newborn baby. A distressing thing indeed at that age.
I met up with two of my best girls from University in September in Dublin and one of them had brought photos. (We were celebrating, in disbelief the fact that it was twenty years since we met. We all started Glasgow Uni in 1986. I was 17)
I looked at the photos of me and nearly wept. I looked so horribly geeky and young. And at the time I thought I was Airchie Pluff. Here was me thinking I was flipping Tank Girl when I was more like a character from the Bunty! I thought I was cutting edge Goth hotpants but instead I looked like I’d raided my mum’s make-up bag and then fallen asleep in it. I cringe thinking about it.
My dad was the same, he had to grow a beard for his wedding day as he was worried he might not be able to have a lager shandy at his own stag do or my mum might get arrested for child molesting. (Sorry, is that a bit sick?)
And anyway, get a grip! 38 isn’t old! This is the only big drawback of working with the yoof of today- they think that life ends at 30. If you make any current popular culture reference they practically fall off their seats! My 16 year old cousin Peter was open mouthed when we told him that we’d seen Nirvana live (twice actually…see, I told you I was smug). Well, for those 17 year old emos wearing a Nirvana t-shirt and thinking they are the coolest thing since…well let me tell you that had he lived, Kurt would have celebrated his 40th birthday last month. He’s be the same age as yer da! Ha! Ha!
In fact to counteract how sorry young people feel for us old timers in our 30s, I feel sorry for them being so young as, generally, it’s full of being broke, having to live in shitty flats, getting dumped, not being able to handle your drink, being put under peer pressure to do all sorts of things you don’t want to do, being a fashion slave whether it suits you or not, not having a clue what to do with your life and living with your folks. Thank god I’m not twenty anymore! Being twenty sucked! (Check me out using teen vernacular like a good ‘un!)
Anyway as I reach for a my botox, and facemask made from freshly squeezed ocelot glands, check out these rather fine specimens who me and my thirtysomething buddies keep good company with.
Kylie Minogue (39)
Jennifer Anniston (38)
Cameron Diaz (36)
Brad Pitt (42)
Jude Law (35)
Gwen Stefani (38)
Not bad, eh? Oh and I know Brad isn’t thirty something but I’m trying to prove a point here!
This is isn’t over. I’ll be going on about this again…mark my words. Unless senile dementia gets to me first.
Remember when we were young, we shone like the sun…
I remember when we were young, we shone like the sun….
Current mood: rejuvenated
Last week I answered the eternal question as posed by eighties rock pigeon, Simon Le Bon “Is there Something I should know” with the somewhat smug and pseudo enigmatic answer, “Yes, once you hit 35, you calm down a bit and it’s all quite funny really.”
But there’s blogging mileage (or bloggage?) in that statement yet. What happens to you when you hit 35, really? Because something certainly does, and that’s why I really like being the age I am, even though a lot of my students are filled with pity when I tell them I’m 38, like I’m telling them I’ve got a year to live. I get the statement, “You’re never 38!” a lot and I’m sorry if some of you take me relating this fact to you as being conceited but, I don’t really think it’s actually a compliment. The statement says more about them than it does me.
First of all, THIS is what 38 looks like! That over there, that photo to the left! Pretty much all of my friends of 35+ look as old or as young as I do. I’m not flipping Cliff Richard! Even Cliff Richard isn’t Cliff Richard anymore!
Also, if you are able to look ok at 38 it probably means that like me (and my dad before me) that at the ages of 18-25 you looked like a kid and would often have to produce ID in pubs, explain to bus drivers that you weren’t a half-fare, and couldn’t get a member of the opposite sex to look at you as you looked like a newborn baby. A distressing thing indeed at that age.
I met up with two of my best girls from University in September in Dublin and one of them had brought photos. (We were celebrating, in disbelief the fact that it was twenty years since we met. We all started Glasgow Uni in 1986. I was 17)
I looked at the photos of me and nearly wept. I looked so horribly geeky and young. And at the time I thought I was Airchie Pluff. Here was me thinking I was flipping Tank Girl when I was more like a character from the Bunty! I thought I was cutting edge Goth hotpants but instead I looked like I’d raided my mum’s make-up bag and then fallen asleep in it. I cringe thinking about it.
My dad was the same, he had to grow a beard for his wedding day as he was worried he might not be able to have a lager shandy at his own stag do or my mum might get arrested for child molesting. (Sorry, is that a bit sick?)
And anyway, get a grip! 38 isn’t old! This is the only big drawback of working with the yoof of today- they think that life ends at 30. If you make any current popular culture reference they practically fall off their seats! My 16 year old cousin Peter was open mouthed when we told him that we’d seen Nirvana live (twice actually…see, I told you I was smug). Well, for those 17 year old emos wearing a Nirvana t-shirt and thinking they are the coolest thing since…well let me tell you that had he lived, Kurt would have celebrated his 40th birthday last month. He’s be the same age as yer da! Ha! Ha!
In fact to counteract how sorry young people feel for us old timers in our 30s, I feel sorry for them being so young as, generally, it’s full of being broke, having to live in shitty flats, getting dumped, not being able to handle your drink, being put under peer pressure to do all sorts of things you don’t want to do, being a fashion slave whether it suits you or not, not having a clue what to do with your life and living with your folks. Thank god I’m not twenty anymore! Being twenty sucked! (Check me out using teen vernacular like a good ‘un!)
Anyway as I reach for a my botox, and facemask made from freshly squeezed ocelot glands, check out these rather fine specimens who me and my thirtysomething buddies keep good company with.
Kylie Minogue (39)
Jennifer Anniston (38)
Cameron Diaz (36)
Brad Pitt (42)
Jude Law (35)
Gwen Stefani (38)
Not bad, eh? Oh and I know Brad isn’t thirty something but I’m trying to prove a point here!
This is isn’t over. I’ll be going on about this again…mark my words. Unless senile dementia gets to me first.
