Alas, poor Michael! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite sarcasm, of most excellent pretension. He hath annoyed me a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that spoke rhetoric I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now; your cuts, your mockery? your flashes of arrogance, that were wont to upset the blogs to a roar? Thirty. Three... oh. 30 is the first birthday you don't look forward to. 10 is double digits, 13 you become a teenager, 15 the driver's permit, 18 you are legal, 21 you can drink, and 25 car insurance is finally less than the car payment. Nothing good comes after 30. 30 brings questions on health, retirement planing, and career. The answers are never what you though they would be at 18.
At 30, current music lacks quality - it pales in comparison to the songs written in your youth. Radio is your enemy, playing the mindless drivel during the rush hour, forcing you to your CDs or even NPR. The
oldies station plays songs from your graduation year. You listen to talk radio to and from work even knowing that doing such marks your age.
Weekends no longer hold a special draw; they hold things to fix and required social engagements. Bedtime is a constant; only changed with good cause. What was once possible - a night of hard drinking with no ill effects - is now met with a day long hangover for only half the drinking effort. Allergies you never had before creep in. You get sore sometimes just from sleeping.
However, there is one gain of 30. One that makes up for everything else. And then some...
Old age and treachery will beat youth and vigor any day.
Posted By Mike On Friday, March 31, 2006
Filed under life birthday |
Comments (3)
Daryl
-
Friday, March 31, 2006
7:45:00 PM
I turned 29 a little over a month ago and am rare in that I can hardly wait to hit 30 because I'm among the youngest of my circle of friends. I'll still be the youngest, but at least I'll have passed that milestone. Happy birthday, old timer.
Gabriel
-
Friday, March 31, 2006
9:18:00 PM
I listened to a review of a new political documentary on NPR the other day. The documentary goes behind locked doors to give insight into a political campaign in, I believe, Liberia two years ago when the then president sought re-election and brought in several of Clinton's propaganda masters to help him.
The clips they played on the radio included them talking to each other about starting a smear campaign against the politician's competitors and making sure it was disassociated with the politician until everything was in the open.
Apparently he ended up winning the election then two months later a bloody rebellion ripped him out of office and sent him into exile.
At the end of the commentary I found myself both (A) wanting to call you and Daryl up to go see it with me when/if it came to Downtown West, and (B) feeling really, really old.
Incidentally, having put this much effort into a comment and having been recently chastized for not being active enough in my own blog, I think I'll get two for the price of one and double-dip this particular entry. Mua-ah-ah. (Two-ah-ah.)
Maja
-
Thursday, September 28, 2006
4:02:02 PM
On top of everything, you lose your hair when you're 30.
And Daryl, please don't talk like that; it's a crazy talk.
