Today is the last day of my 35th year, which means tomorrow I will turn 35. That’s confusing but it makes sense if you go all the way back to getting born and beginning your first year right there in the hospital/on the floor of the cab/in the tub while you’re still all gooey. Once you finish that first year, you become one. That’s what I’m doing 34 years later. 35 is not a very cool age to be unless you’re a hotshot politician or a very accomplished doctor. If you’re a woman 35 is good because while lots of girls peak at like 20, a whole bunch of them actually peak, appearance wise, somewhere in their 30’s. A great (and highly nerdy) example of this is the cast of Friends. They were in their 20’s in the beginning of that show and by the time the show was over the women were all vastly hotter and in their mid 30’s. In that regard, it’s gotta be kind of nice to be a 35 year old woman, because, well, who expected you to be this hot at 35? Not me. But there you are, hot. Surprise, assholes.
Me, I’m not a surprisingly hot woman or a surgeon or even a hotshot politician. I’m just a guy dropping my kid off at school, looking at all the parents who are also there (who are also not bigshot politicians or rockstar surgeons) and going ‘wow. I’m one of these fucking people, eh?’ I’ve hit the long, shitty, dull, soul crushing pedestrian walkway of middle age that spits you out on the other side all grey and bitter and just barely remembering what it was like to get a blowjob in an alley or sneak into the park with some beer or ambush and kill a unit of German stormtroopers and drink mead from their still-warm skulls or anything fun like that. Pretty weird.
I’m planning on some good times though. I’m having a show over at the Double Door in Wicker Park where I’m gonna play some hits and some new shits on my acoustic guitar and the always amazing Ratasucia and the equally amazing Swayback will be playing as well. Come for the birthday celebration, stay for the part where I make dick jokes and stagger around with my guitar for the amusement of all in the general zone. It’s gonna be a fucking gas, because I may be old, but this old man still knows how to rock n roll, kids! Believe that! Watch this!
…..at this point, you’ll have to imagine that I’m doing the splits, jumping into the air, landing on my groin, jumping right back up, back into the splits. Over and over again. I’m also screaming. Okay, got it? Good.
Yeah. See that shit? This old man knows how to ROCK! Boy. Who said they can’t teach an old dog some tricks, eh? You think you’re so tough? Boy, I used to hammer nails through metal two by fours with my dick when you were still just a stain in your momma’s panties! I used to fuck a room full of women and then walk across the street and fuck a roomful of men and THEN eat breakfast! I used to…
Shit. See, that’s the thing. There’s nothing to be done. The choice is, get older, have a little dignity, stop with the bullshit and the fun, become awkward, because you’re suddenly in a whole new situation where you’re acting like someone you’ve never really been before and you’re hanging out with the people your kids pick for you to play with, and they’re acting all weird too, or, you can act like you’ve ‘still got it’ which is just grosser than anything on the earth, OR you can wither and die, defeated by your descent into lameness. You can start fucking young girls or bleach your hair, you can sit there and bitterly decry all the new shit that’s happening. You can vanish into sports and intellectual interests, you can be the soft spoken erudite professorial type who listens to NPR and just kind of smugly knows what’s going on because you’re kind of tuned in, but aloof to it all even though everyone secretly thinks you’re kind of a smug dildo.
I’m none of those things. I’m just the same old asshole I was ten years ago but with an earlier curfew, less ability to take shots and a show on Friday night. I’d love to see you there. Come on down. I really like you guys.