Finding the Answers

The creaking of old bones. The not all that gradual fading of a hairline. The not all that occasional gray strand found while staring in the mirror. The not all that imperceptible chubbiness growing in my cheeks.

Aging, it inspires the greatest of all introspection, becomes a catalyst for reminiscing, and constantly leaves us in all sorts of tiny little mid-life crises. Birthday’s are the best…and having just passed my 25th, I find myself asking a few questions that beg to be written down.

1) What’s wrong with being a yuppie?

Yes, as each year places another notch on my wall I find myself fulfilling more and more of the criteria I mentally store in my mind as “the yuppie factor.” This past weekend I fulfilled criteria number 10: I now own a coffee grinder. Growing up, yuppie was the equivalent of the ultimate sellout, at least in my mind. Thankfully, I am now a little wiser and I am enjoying much better coffee today than I was last week. You would be surprised the difference freshly ground coffee beans makes in the morning. Such a difference that it makes you adjust the mental categorization of different social classes. It’s not a bad thing to be close to a yuppie. I enjoy my new fancy cheese knives, fresh coffee, and the occasional homemade fondue desserts…and who wouldn’t? Yuppie on all you 20 something’s out there.

2) Isn’t bald beautiful?

Yes.

3) Where did all my friends go and what’s up with this marriage thing?

Don’t believe the hype, and don’t buy into the pressure. I cannot see or talk to a relative these days for over an hour without someone wondering when I am going to pop the question. My opinion: Suspense is such a wonderful thing. My advice: short conversations with relatives usually doesn’t give them the time to delve into the ring thing…keep ‘em curt. Where did all my friends go? They got married.

4) Can I retire yet?

No but I am sure as hell ready. I will start the long vacation as soon as I can. The countdown started before I got my first job.

That’s about the extent of my 25 year old crisis, quickly approaching the motorcycle age of 50, a tattoo and an affair…I can’t wait.