From Desk Till Dawn

My mainly music & nerd bird blog

Posts Tagged ‘Age

Edge Of Seventeen

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I alluded briefly on my blog this Sunday to two teenage girls we met at the Hot Chip iTunes festival. They were in front of us in the queue and immediately started chatting away. At first we just talked about their love of Madness, how much they liked the tattoo behind my ear, cars (of which I am brilliantly ignorant, that’s Lucy’s department) and make-up. The usual topics I’d expect to cover with two sixteen year-old’s (apart from Madness, that threw me). They also couldn’t get over how old I was. I told them I was 33 (it turns out I am not 33 at all. I am in fact 34 and at some point over the past couple of years I have accidentally been lying about my age. That’s another story I’m still trying to get my head around).

This may also go some way to explaining why at one point I found myself screaming “I don’t even know if you kids think high-fives are cool any more but I’m giving you one anyway”. They humoured me with part pity and part bemusement.

Conversation soon moved on to truancy, let down dads and getting into fights. That’s when, in my drunken state, I imagined a cape falling from the skies and wrapping round my shoulders. I must be a responsible and inspirational person in a queue for a very brilliant band. They had to endure lectures about why they shouldn’t fancy Chris Brown, that if they keep on getting into fights how they need to join a boxing club like Nicola Adams, drugs, careers, school. I covered it all in a breathless whirlwind before the band started, each time something they said gave me cause for concern. We just danced non-stop after that, pausing only for me to give them horrendously middle-aged nods and winks every time boys their age walked past.

I was so determined to make some small impression on these girls, some little dent that come Monday morning they’ll decide not to bunk off school after all  that I didn’t really take into consideration some of the things they were saying to me. When I told them I had a date soon they grabbed me by the shoulders and told me not to sleep with boys on the first night with furrowed brows and a stern pout, it was the most serious I’d seen them all night. When one of them said she had an audition for a talent show she turned to me and said “It’s not the end of the world if it doesn’t work out, life carries on doesn’t it? You just keep putting one foot in front of the other”. Wise words from one so young.

Followed by the other one grinning at me, pointing at Hot Chip and saying “I like the beats”, North Face jacket pulled up over her head, Nike Blazers keeping perfect time. I am in love with that simple sentence. All my music reviews now will have that ode to her, even folk music. I like the beats.

You know, I told someone about these girls and they told me they’re probably already a lost cause. I’m not so sure. After all they burst into song during Hot Chip covering Fleetwood Mac’s Everywhere and with huge grins said “We love Stevie Nicks”.


Written by Anon PA

October 2, 2012 at 4:20 pm

Middle-Aged Resentment

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Earlier this week I found myself having a conversation with one of the Director’s in my office. He was telling me he suffers terribly from “middle-aged resentment”. That he’s constantly aware at all times, someone out there younger than he is, will be having the time of their life. His best days are behind him.

At the time it wasn’t something I could entirely connect with, I laughed and thought “poor sod”. Until I took a peek at his passport the other day and realised he’s actually only a couple of years older than I am.

I’m 34 this year (we all say how old we’re going to be next birthday don’t we? Never the age we’re at now) and have never thought that put me in the “middle-age” category. I always thought I was smugly past those rosy days of your twenties when you think life is spontaneous and chances are handed freely to you just by merit of your naive enthusiasm.  Feel like I’m not quite in the days of my forties where I fully expect to feel like I have let myself down in not saving the human race or keeping a plant alive for more than a fortnight and then start buying shit loads of cats. Then I found out Chris Packham is 51 and I am hugely confused about where middle-age starts, and strongly suspect that actually maybe these age brackets that try to define us don’t exist anymore. Being that he looks as youthful, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as a boy scout.

I like lurking in my thirties. So my hangovers can last a couple of days and Topshop feels increasingly like its laughing at me for trying to remain in its demographic. But my boobs are exactly where they should be still (although I strongly suspect my bum may not be, but I don’t have to look at that). I still feel like I have time to ignore my ever-present nagging conscience saying “what are you going to do with your life?”, I pretend not to hear it over the Tinnitus.

We always talk about our idyllic childhoods don’t we? No one ever tags that word on to our adult years. Tragically sad really.

Written by Anon PA

July 11, 2012 at 11:57 am