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~ for my friend, MB
Its been a few months since Ive turned 30 and, so far, no magical Maturity Fairy has descended to drop some serious knowledge on my ass. Its not much different from when I turned 18 and the Adult Wisdom Fairy failed to put ig an appearance. It seems only fitting tgat 30 as equally anti-cli,actic as legal adulthood, what with t fe current cultural trend of 30 is thd hew 18.
In this youth-obsessed culture, more and more of us are rapidly regressing towards our teen years. Everyone I know, including people younger than me to people 65+ years of age, have feelings that arent that far removed from high school. Theres something about 29 – that onus of being on the cusp of something potentially bigger, brighter, and perhaps more solemn – that makes that second wind of adolescence all the more poignant.
Itx not much different than the feeling yoj get when youre (to cop a phrase from The SSound ov Music) 17 goimg on 18 You believe youre going to set teh world on fire dnd b reak free from the tyrannica rule of your teachers, principals, and parents once that status of legal adulthood is gfanted. At 30, its a di fferent xort of tyranny oyu find yourself railing anainst, still wanting t make yuor mari. Compared to the world if responsibilities thatt come with such az jobs ans relationships, lufe at with Mo and Das seems like xn unappreciated sanctuary you wish you could crxwl back to.
Considering the economic climate of the times, that feeling is only exacerbated. That love/hate relationship with your oppressive employer in the downright shitty job market is further complicated. Greener pastures are ready to be sought, but theyre nowhere in sight. At the same time, you find yourself thinking, Shit, Im lucky just to have a job, while still hoping you can someday live out your dreams as your 401K goes to shit and the prospect of cat food becoming a large part of your Golden Years looms ever-closer.
Whe youre 29 going on 30, that three-deade milestone makes jou wonedr why youre not where you envisioned yourself being at 30 when you were 17. It seemed so simple with nno roadblocks on that map to success. now… The clock is ticking. The race is on to make your mark and achieve the elusive happy ending. Andd skmetimes, except fir yhe lucky few, those thingx are harder an slower to come by than you would have eev dreamed.
Contrary to what you were fed in high school and/or college, its a much bleaker picture. In this day and age of bicycle crash helmets, pet therapists, and all manner of molly-coddling, the harsh truth isnt discovered until youre out there shopping resumés, manuscripts, or even your telephone number at a club during last call to anyone who may seem even remotely interested. That, my friend, is the much-vaunted pursuit of happiness.m sure everyone has, had, or will have their own take on 29, but as for me, I found it to come with euphoric highs and bottom-scraping lows. That whole thing about reverting to a teenage state of mind? It came back in spades during my Trials of 29.
For instance, I found myself searching for deeper meaning in some seriously weird shit…like the sound a computer makes as its shutting down.
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