Rage against the dying of the light!!!
Over the past couple years, my ability to enjoy contemporary music has been waning. Over the last few months it has been non-existent really. I have chalked this up to my becoming old. There was once a time when I was sure that I would never become a person who couldn't enjoy contemporary, "pop", music. As of late however, I have been more content with Micheal Jackson's Thriller, and Sammy Hagar's greatest hits. While I do listen to the radio, I haven't really been impressed. I heard this "Killers" song recently, and though I'm not going to go out and buy their album or anything it does give me a little hope.
One song isn't much, but it's a door hold button in an otherwise plummeting elevator to the basement of old age.
Fast forward to me, in pastels with a toupee.
Fast forward to me, in a seniors bowling league.
Fast forward to me, taking salt out of my diet.
I didn't like their other song about the girl dating a guy that looked like a girl that was actually a guy or possibly some chick the singer dated a few months back in cancun or some shit. But I like Mr. Bright Side. It's catchy, and I sort of identify with it. I know, I know, I'm old now, I can't identify with pop music!!!! It's illegal. But I have also noticed that my constant juvenile lifestyle, has not prepared me for my mid life. I think that I've discovered where mid life crises (That is crisis plural, not a spelling error) stem from. It occurs to me that people such as myself that are so non adult oriented, shun things commonly associated with middle age. I don't drink tea, or coffee, and I don't read much John Grisham, or worry about acid reflux. I have however gotten to a point where I don't play video games anymore (Don't have time or much desire), and I have lost my patience with bad movies. I have no room to waste money, and I am completely happy with the amount of clothing I now own, and I don't care anymore that my car is a piece of shit. On the other hand I can't afford a house, my job isn't destined for middle management, and I don't have a circle of mixed gender friends that meet twice a month and drink wine, eat health food, and discuss politics. So I've no buffer zone you see. I can almost taste some sort of mid life crisis looming in the air around me. It's people like me, that live as a teen well into their mid thirties and are forced to acclimate to adulthood abruptly, who have problems. You wake up with gray hairs, and bad teeth, then you have to get a tan and a fancy car. Well that is if you have money for that. I will just end up fat and addicted to some sort of Little Debbie snack cake.
One song is something, but it's just the last blip on the radar that is displaying the bermuda triangle of my youth.
Fast forward to me, with a collection of medication and kidney stones.
Fast forward to me, buying tapes to perfect my golf swing.
Fast forward to me, falling asleep alone on the floor with a book in my hands.
I still have hope. I can try to slowly start phasing in adult type things. I can get reading glasses to read reader's digest. I can learn to make fly lures, I don't have to fish just make the lures. I can eat skinless, boneless, chickenless, chicken. Turkey Chicken. Turkey Turkey. I'll jog more, and masturbate less. I'm giving the wrong parts a work out. Some things will inevitably go out on me, why not focus on the more important ones now while I can. I'll volunteer to play checkers with seniors, so I can get a feel for it early. I can make my own wine, I don't have to drink it just make it. I can whittle. I'll take up sewing, I'll save money in the long run by fixing my socks. I'll start a first edition book collection, I don't have to read them just own them. I'll start smoking a pipe. I'll buy tweed jackets with patches on the elbows. I can let the gray hairs grow out at my temples. I need a work shed, I don't have to work in it I just have to be able to if I get the urge.
One song is nice, but it's the death throws of my beached whale of adolescence being pushed desperately back into the sea by onlookers.
Fast forward to me, worrying about my will.
Fast forward to me, lifting with my legs.
Fast forward to me, buying comfortable shoes....
(Hey Hillary, did you like that complete and total rip off of Chuck Palahniuk ;P I crack myself up.)
One song isn't much, but it's a door hold button in an otherwise plummeting elevator to the basement of old age.
Fast forward to me, in pastels with a toupee.
Fast forward to me, in a seniors bowling league.
Fast forward to me, taking salt out of my diet.
I didn't like their other song about the girl dating a guy that looked like a girl that was actually a guy or possibly some chick the singer dated a few months back in cancun or some shit. But I like Mr. Bright Side. It's catchy, and I sort of identify with it. I know, I know, I'm old now, I can't identify with pop music!!!! It's illegal. But I have also noticed that my constant juvenile lifestyle, has not prepared me for my mid life. I think that I've discovered where mid life crises (That is crisis plural, not a spelling error) stem from. It occurs to me that people such as myself that are so non adult oriented, shun things commonly associated with middle age. I don't drink tea, or coffee, and I don't read much John Grisham, or worry about acid reflux. I have however gotten to a point where I don't play video games anymore (Don't have time or much desire), and I have lost my patience with bad movies. I have no room to waste money, and I am completely happy with the amount of clothing I now own, and I don't care anymore that my car is a piece of shit. On the other hand I can't afford a house, my job isn't destined for middle management, and I don't have a circle of mixed gender friends that meet twice a month and drink wine, eat health food, and discuss politics. So I've no buffer zone you see. I can almost taste some sort of mid life crisis looming in the air around me. It's people like me, that live as a teen well into their mid thirties and are forced to acclimate to adulthood abruptly, who have problems. You wake up with gray hairs, and bad teeth, then you have to get a tan and a fancy car. Well that is if you have money for that. I will just end up fat and addicted to some sort of Little Debbie snack cake.
One song is something, but it's just the last blip on the radar that is displaying the bermuda triangle of my youth.
Fast forward to me, with a collection of medication and kidney stones.
Fast forward to me, buying tapes to perfect my golf swing.
Fast forward to me, falling asleep alone on the floor with a book in my hands.
I still have hope. I can try to slowly start phasing in adult type things. I can get reading glasses to read reader's digest. I can learn to make fly lures, I don't have to fish just make the lures. I can eat skinless, boneless, chickenless, chicken. Turkey Chicken. Turkey Turkey. I'll jog more, and masturbate less. I'm giving the wrong parts a work out. Some things will inevitably go out on me, why not focus on the more important ones now while I can. I'll volunteer to play checkers with seniors, so I can get a feel for it early. I can make my own wine, I don't have to drink it just make it. I can whittle. I'll take up sewing, I'll save money in the long run by fixing my socks. I'll start a first edition book collection, I don't have to read them just own them. I'll start smoking a pipe. I'll buy tweed jackets with patches on the elbows. I can let the gray hairs grow out at my temples. I need a work shed, I don't have to work in it I just have to be able to if I get the urge.
One song is nice, but it's the death throws of my beached whale of adolescence being pushed desperately back into the sea by onlookers.
Fast forward to me, worrying about my will.
Fast forward to me, lifting with my legs.
Fast forward to me, buying comfortable shoes....
(Hey Hillary, did you like that complete and total rip off of Chuck Palahniuk ;P I crack myself up.)