Aged Like a Fine Cheddar


Lately I’ve become painfully aware of just how out of place I feel even in the most comfortable and worn in of dive bars and last night amongst an ex-girlfriend who staunchly wants to remain my best friend and a bar full of incarnations of the friends and bands of my yesteryear, all I could think over and over again was “what the fuck am I doing here?” At first I thought it was her getting on my nerves, after all we both do things that annoy each other.  But she was being nothing but pleasant and sweet.  Then I noticed some of the new young twenty-somethings she was talking to and I thought Eureka! 

But what exactly was/is it about these kinda adults that bothers me so? I need to parse out the underlying thought behind the emotion on pain of coming off shallow and pretentious.   Surely it’s not the fact that my ex has new friends, what’s that matter me? And it’s not these kids in and of themselves I dislike, on the contrary I find them pleasant enough (especially the one with the vampire makeup). The only complaint I could make with most of this younger generation I find myself surrounded with when is that they seem completely uninformed in a great many things, but is this really all their fault?

Well I’m sure if one wanted they could make some sort of argument about the state of the education system and kids lack of motivation, but for my purpose the answer is an emphatic No!  It only seems right and natural that a gap in knowledge (and hence topics of conversation) should exist between myself and those a decade my junior. And eureka! I’ve placed my finger on the problem.

This is no mere gap for me but an ever expanding chasm. I strain my blurry eyesight to its very limits to see what lies on the other side, and alas I see a form. But as this form takes shape and comes to light l sense an odd familiarity as if it were an old friend or even someone closer. Then as everything finally comes into focus I realize it is me who I’m looking at, only not myself as I stand today, but myself ten years past.

My annoyance isn’t with anybody else, it’s with myself.  I feel like that last guy to leave the long since over party. In fact a new, younger party has sprung up in the same spot and seeing the faces of old friends in these new ones leaves me cold.  But worse than that I’ve lost track of both time and purpose.  The passionate fires that burn deep within have been doused in a frothy suds filled mess for far too long.  I must leave the party and get to work crafting my legacy. I may not be a kid anymore, but I’m far from old and there’s much to do before it is my turn to exit the world stage.


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