A little over a week ago I went to get an eye exam. For those of you who don’t know, I was diagnosed as diabetic approximately six months ago, so this was my first diabetic eye exam. I’m doing well with the condition, actually, thanks to Paleo (had a cheat weekend and feel like crap, but I have my numbers under control with only medication and no insulin, and my eyes are not currently in danger from the sugar).
But when I had my sight checked, I discovered that I’m close to needing bifocals. The doctor said “welcome to 40. You’ll probably need them next year or the one after. Once you can’t stretch your arms far enough to read the paper in front of you.”
And so I walked out to find Julie in the Wal-Mart with my huge dilated eyes.
It made me think, though. As an academic, I think I have sort of a selective Dorian Gray thing happening ( and I don’t think I’m alone in this). I think I look younger than I am (younger still when I shave my goatee with its gray segments), and particularly this last year or so working with my esports students, I have always felt like I was still part of youth culture because I chat with my students and try to understand the things they like. I was never cool in either scenario.
It brings in to question, though… what does it mean to get old?
When I was in my 20s people told me I was an “old soul,” but they also told me quite frequently that I’d lose my ideological stance and my angst over politics and such as I “grew up” and learned to “be a man.” I want to say that was sage advice, and that I have learned a great deal from all of those people…but really, I haven’t.
When I was in my 20s I felt the same way I do now about most things. I was way less experienced, and I had so many things to go out and learn. I’m a smarter person, and I have seen way, way more. But I didn’t really change on the fundamental level:
1. I still get socially anxious around more than a small group UNLESS I’m teaching or presenting on ideas.
2. I still feel like people like me are treated poorly
3. I still think that older people are too hard on younger people, even as I’ve moved significantly across that gradient
4. I still play games and write stories. I have more toys now than I did as a kid. I teach people about games.
5. I still love deeply and foolishly (just found the right person to be a fool over), and I still get deeply, “unrealistically” hurt when someone betrays me.
I still want the blue one of something, even if it costs more.
I still want to believe in heroes.
I still watch wrestling on Monday nights.
I still HATE when my phone rings.
I still assume someone will yell at me when I have the music on loud.
I’m not so sure I understand what aging does to a person. I know I’ve grown older and wiser, but I don’t think I’ve changed. I think I was an adult when I was younger and I just… got to a point and crystallized.
I’m getting old. I’m not the upstart young guy anymore. I’m the 40-year-old guy losing his eyesight and needing to watch his sugar intake. But I still sing along with the radio and still buy little action figures and such.
I still want a sports car just cuz. But maybe that IS an old guy thing.
I was remembering the first week of school on my drive home from campus today. I remember that Julie wore a pair of shoes that rubbed her heels raw. She had to take her shoes off. And then someone told her that wasn’t professional. Like she was a child who needed to be chided.
My first week back at Miami as an instructor, as a faculty “retreat” I was accosted for wearing docker shorts and a t-shirt. To a retreat.
Maybe the reason I don’t feel as “old” as I am is that people who are just a little bit older than me don’t afford me the respect they would an adult. My home culture has a very specific understanding of what it means to be an elder. Such micro-aggressions aren’t supposed to be thrown toward an adult. These are the things we do to the young to try to teach them a lesson.
I never thought such lessons worked, and they never really worked on me. I’ve always been a literalist. If someone wanted me to know something, I just wanted them to tell me. And when people attempt their subtle moves, I usually see them as what they actually are.
No one was concerned with me wearing shorts at that retreat. People were worried about making it clear to me that there was a power structure, and to that power structure at the time many still thought of me as the MA student who had left five years earlier. I’d come of age, but not in the eyes of a particular set of people.
Today I felt like I was respected as a peer in the faculty meeting, like a grown up, like I was at the adult table.
Welcome to 40?