10 Signs You’re Getting Old

When Jab! e-mailed me a few days ago with a guest post idea–I couldn’t resist, and after reading it and almost choking on a few of them–I dare you to read these and NOT find yourself thinking–”Oh Lord, am I getting old, too?” Jab!, my brutha, this is the funniest post you’ve ever written–maybe because it’s so true? I have to run and get my touch back now and get at those gray hairs. Everyone else, enjoy Jab!’s excellent post on 10 sign’s you’re getting old!

The other day, a friend on Facebook posted “just rode the L train.  Good God do I hate hipsters.”  And I thought, there’s no way that this guy is saying that!  Because I remember this guy back in the day in his Goth version of Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction look.  I replied back to him, hating hipsters is a top ten sign that you’re getting old.  Maybe this is something that’s on my mind these days as I’m riding this Earth on its final lap around the sun racing toward the end of my thirties.  But one thing I know for sure, I’m a grown ass man now.  Then my friend asked, “What are the other 9 things?”  OK, since you asked:

10. Hipsters on the L Train-  The biggest reason why Pants On The Ground was a big hit (even though it didn’t make a dime, because old people don’t buy music) was because it gave old people a rallying cry.  Something to circle their wagons around.  For generations old people have been saying the younger generation is going to hell in a hand basket.  And even though I don’t know anyone with a hand basket, there sure are some people I’d like to put in one.

My generation invented the baggy pants look.  But just like every next generation, they’ve taken it to the next level.  When you’re able to stand at the urinal without undoing your jeans, that’s next level.  And I went through all of that stuff.  The hip hop baggy pants stage, the punk skater stage, the valley stage, the unkempt stage.  And I remember thinking to myself, “you know you’re old when you tuck your t-shirts in your jeans!”  Well, I just realized I’ve been old for about five years now.

9. Eating Sensibly- One of the reasons I think that pushes you toward dropping the whole “looking hip” thing is you no longer look the part.  Back when I had a 32 waist and six pack abs, hell yeah I was workin’ it!  I looked hot and you couldn’t tell me shit.  I was the embodiment of what hip clothes were supposed to be on.  Then I went to a 34 waist, no big deal.  I can rock that!  Then 36, umm….ok.  This can still work.  Then 38, the six pack is now a 12 pack and my doctor is checking my cholesterol levels.  What the hell just happened???  All of a sudden, I’m dropping the Burger King whoppers for a Subway 6 inch tuna. “No Cheetos, I’ll take the baked Lays please.  And water with a lemon.”

Now the hip clothes don’t look so hip anymore.  I’m opting for a loose fitting shirt instead of form fitting.  Sure, the ass is still rock hard, but the belt buckle isn’t quite in plain sight anymore.  Now I’m looking more like I’m trying instead of belonging.  So I’ll just still with the grilled chicken salad and try not to spill any vinaigrette on my Cosby sweater.

8. Sensible haircut- With the clothes go the hair.  Did you see Chris Rock’s movie Good Hair?  That was me back in the day.  I used to get my hair straightened  as a teen, but not to look like Ice T or James Brown.  I started with the Billy Idol spike, then grew it out for the Flock of Seagulls bangs.  And for a short while, spiked it up to a Mohawk before I went back to Flock of Seagulls.  But then when Living Colour came out (yes, I’m dating myself) I HAD to get dreads.  Starting dreads back then was a pain staking process because no barber shop in Texas knew how to make that happen.  But with a little patience and a lot of bees wax, I got it going.  And so it went for 10 years, all the way down to my ass.

Most of my dread time was in New York, so no one gave a damn.  But moving back to Texas…with dreads down to your ass…that was a different story.  So there I was, in my thirties, in a serious relationship, trying to get a better job, in Texas.  All of a sudden, my interest in looking “cool” was not a top priority.  And there go the dreads.  I tried to hold on with a messy Maxwell cut for a while.  But it didn’t take long for it to morph from a Maxwell into a Denzel.  I show pics of my dread days to people that didn’t know me then and they can’t believe it.  They think it’s a Halloween costume or something.  They can kiss my ass.

7. Men and jewelry- With the hair goes the jewelry.  I still have a bunch of necklaces and chokers and rings that I haven’t put on in years.  Do you know how ridiculous you look wearing a choker with a pot belly?  But it’s more than just how you see yourself, it’s how you see others too.  This twenty something guy came into my office the other day in a stylish button down shirt and slacks, looked good.  Then I noticed he was wearing a dangling wooden beads choker.  All of a sudden I’m like, what the hell was he thinking??  I got home that night and looked above my dresser, I had almost the same choker.  Except mine was covered in dust.

6. Dating age range- Before I found my love, my buddy and I used to have a dating age range; no one 5 years older or younger.  I may have bent the rule a bit here or there, but I stuck pretty firm to that.  But over time, that rule had to be amended.  Because when you’re 28, 21 still looks good to you.  They may be dumb, but they still look good.  So no one more 10 years younger.  Yeah, that still works.  Not long after that, I settled down and the rule was a moot point.  But my buddy is still out there to this day, still trying to shake his money maker.  Now his limit is 15 years younger.  Of course, he doesn’t realize that that range is usually too far out for THEIR range and that he’s too old for their ass.  He still looks pretty good, but he also looks like a cradle robber.

5. Nightlife/Friends with kids- Then there are my other friends, the ones settled down with kids.  Remember when you could call up your entourage at 9pm, make plans and get into some shit around 11pm?  I don’t.  That’s been so long ago for me it’s like a faint dream.  I mean hell, if I couldn’t remember what went on the next morning, what makes you think I’m gonna remember it 10 years later?  But nowadays, everybody’s coupled up.  Some have kids.  You have to coordinate your schedules and check with partners to plan something for a month later. “Hey, let’s meet up for a drink!” “Sounds great!  Aw, wait a minute.  This Saturday? Can’t, little Justin has a birthday party to go to.  How ‘bout the 14^th?”  “No can do.  Dinner party at the in-law’s.”  These days, I’m better friends with my people on Facebook than my own crew.

4. Living on a budget- I remember in college when we wouldn’t have a scrap of food in the apartment, no job for shit, and watching my roommate digging through the couch cushions for loose change.  Not to buy food, but for cigarettes.  Or a Spring Break trip to the beach with nothing but gas money and beer.  And coming back home 5 days later coasting into the driveway, running on fumes.  And it was the life!  These days, making a middle class salary, with bills, a house payment, life insurance and retirement fund, I pretty much end the month with the same amount in the bank account as I did back in college.  I just have no Spring Break to show for it.

3. Tweens piss me off- Last fall I was outside raking leaves, and these Tweens come strolling down the street.  They were 4 boys around 12 years old.  They all had these Styrofoam sticks that were packing material from some package.  And they were beating each other with them like clubs, playing sword fighting.  Styrofoam pieces flying everywhere in my yard, laughing their asses off.  All of a sudden I go into old man mode.  I yell at them, “Hey boy!  Pick up your damn foam!”  Being a rather large guy with a rake in my hand, they froze, went back and picked all that crap up.  Then they walked away looking back at me like I was the old crazy man on the block.  Have I turned into that?  All I needed was some dress shorts, argyle socks and fedora and I’d be set.

2. Blasting car stereos- Once again, just like the baggy pants, my generation started this shit.  So I understand.  I remember installing my Kenwood pullout and 12 inch speakers in the back of my 81’ Civic hatchback and blasting Snap’s “I’VE GOT THE POWER!!”  Rolling down the street with my dark shades and my 32 inch waist, couldn’t tell me shit.  The problem today is I can’t remember the last time somebody drove by me booming the bass and I even knew what song they were playing.  It’s all crap music to me now.  Bunch of no talent hacks unworthy of even holding Public Enemy’s jock strap.  And to make it worse, it’s always blasting out of a piece of shit car.  Some 1990 rattling hooptie colored 4 shades of primer rolling on 24 inch rims that cost more than the car.  Hell, my mountain bike is worth more than their car.  But I have to admit, somebody rolled by me pumping The Beastie Boys the other day, and my head started to nod.

1. Retro movies about you- I keep seeing these retro movies coming out about the era that I grew up in.  Hot Tub Time Machine, Adventureland, all these movies reminding me of how ridiculous we acted back in the day.  But they make these kids want to jock our style.  You know, it’s not fair.  All these kids running around wearing MY STYLE.  I created that look!  And you second hand little punks come around acting like you really made something!  Those are MY Chuck Taylors!  That’s MY Polo shirt!  Those were MY girl’s skinny jeans!  But if I tried to throw back on my old gear, people would think I’m trying to bait some kids to molest.  I remember a few years ago Paul McCartney performed the Super Bowl halftime show, and play Live and Let Die.  And this punk kid says, “Cool!  He’s covering Guns N Roses!”  NO you little twit!  GnR covered Paul McCartney!  He just looked at me like I was some old man that didn’t know shit.  I swear, I was two seconds from grabbing him by the ear and dragging him to a computer to Google it.

Oh my God.  I just realized I’m turning into my dad.  I gotta go.

!Jab!