30’s the New 20
Today’s Friday and I realize that I haven’t posted in a little while. I’m feeling about as motivated as…well…not motivated enough to put thought into coming up with a snappy analogy, it seems. I seem to be having what legitimate writers call, Writer’s Block. The grace in which the words flowed out of my head, through my typing fingers and onto this screen aren’t materializing with the ease in which they once did. I think I actually thought this was going to be easy. I still haven’t even sat down with Stizzle to watch Lost Boys either. Damn.
One thing I’ve been feeling more and more lately, is my age. They say that youth is wasted on the young, which I agree with to some extent, but at the same time, I’d never say that mine was wasted. Looking back, I can honestly say that I took more chances, wound up in more unforgettable situations and time and time again, ending up the following mornings, with good people, wondering what the hell happened the night before. What life doesn’t really provide a course on, is how to transition into one’s 30’s. I look very similar to how I did 3-4 years ago. I’m not more wrinkled, or a couple inches shorter and I don’t hike my trousers up to my armpits. I don’t have hair growing out of my ears, I don’t eat dinner at 3:00PM and I don’t go to bed after Wheel of Fortune. I still go to shows, listen to loud music in my car and for the most part can still get a boner on command***.
***On a side note…a VERY wise man once enlightened me with two SPECTACULAR bits of advice while I was in my early 20’s. When you start getting older, remember these two things (I suppose “older” is subjective):
- Never waste a hard-on.
- Never trust a fart.
Scary stuff right? As far as the hard-ons go, I figure I got at least another good 10-20 years of getting those without issue. At the same time, I can’t help but be reminded of an episode from the most recent season of Curb Your Enthusiasm called “The Bisexual.” Larry starts “juicing” to enhance his performance in the bedroom and hilarity ensues. Sure it’s funny when it happens to a bitter old Jewish guy on TV, but this shit really happens!
“I WAS JUST EVENING OUT THE PLAYING FIELD! EVERYONE WAS DOING IT!”
“You were juicing, Larry? Really? I’m sorry, but you’re NEVER getting into Cooperstown.”
“I HAVE NEVER USED PERFORMANCE ENHANCING DRUGS…EVER!”
As far as shitting myself goes, well that used to happen all the time when I was drinking and using. I seem to have this problem under control…for the time being. Now I’m just happy if I can take a shit on a regular basis. Ah, fuck it….I should probably start eating more fiber.
The main thing that I’m missing from a few years back is the energy. The passion. I’m just more apathetic (hence the name). Maybe some of you can relate? Whereas I used to be genuinely pissed that I couldn’t find any good musicians to jam with, now they’re popping up in abundance and I don’t seem to care. I’d rather go home after work, watch my dog hump my Angels blanket, eat dinner with my wife, watch a movie and go to bed. NOFX has a song on their “So Long And Thanks For All The Shoes” album called “Quart In Session” (Ahhh…NOFX, always with the stupid puns…). The chorus goes something like this, “Nothing seems much fun anymore to me…Nothing seems much fun anymore to me…” It’s about their drummer, who was a heroin addict/alcoholic, who in his older age, without the help of substances, has a hard time enjoying things the same way he used to.
I feel like I can relate.
I realized that my body couldn’t handle drinking nonstop, from sunrise to sunrise (with the help of other things), on a weekend, at around age 27. It took a good two years of denial before I realzed I needed to change my lifestyle. Now that I’ve reached this hallowed promised-land, where’s the energy I used to have? Where’s the new sunshiny life that I was promised? I really hope it’s not all a pipedream, I really don’t. I’m still hanging on to the hope that with time, I’ll get to where I need to be.In the meantime though, life goes on. I definitely don’t have the same edge that I used to…at least I don’t think so. Apparently it could all be in my head though…my wife seems to think I’m funnier, more engaging now than I have ever been. Then again, she’s never been a raging degenerate. In the beginning, when we first met, she tried her best to keep up with me. The first year or so, she actually did pretty well. The kid had a lot of heart, I have to give it to her (oh yeah baby, I’ll give it to her…). I give her a lot of credit for realizing that no mortal could keep up with Zeus for any extended amount of time, and toning it down and sliding into a groove of her own. I envy her in a way. She’s aware of her own limitations. She was built for her 30’s. She looks great, has tons of energy (because she didn’t fuck herself up in her 20’s like I did) and is generally a pretty happy person (again because she didn’t fuck herself up in her 20’s like I did). So at least I got a rad wife going for me. That’s actually pretty fucking awesome. I’m very fortunate for this, as I’ve probably put her through enough crap to where she should have high-tailed it out of Dodge a long time ago. Then again, I’m incredibly charming and handsome. I know which buttons to push and when, and yes I do realize how cocky this may sound, but hey…when you got it, you got it. Some things stay with you forever. End of story. Now back to the kitchen, Babe, and make me a sammich.
So folks…when you’re out there being young and alive (see what I did there, Tyler?), think of your old pal Mike Apathy. Raise a glass of whatever you’re drinking and say a toast. If some of you were fortunate enough to have experienced the insanity with me while it happened, and survived, more power to you.
In the meantime, I’m going to try my best to get over myself. Afterall, 30’s the new 20 right?
For Tyler and all the other old fucktards out there,
This is Mike Apathy signing off.