How do you recognize you’re getting old? You’ll find many answers to that question in literature and folk wisdom. You’ll even find many good answers, so you can take your pick.
I’ll never forget the definition according to which you’re getting old when you no longer like new music. For I’ll never forget how we were discussing rap after it came to this country in 1990. We’re in our last Tech year in the Topas club, I’m explaining my theory that the first song made on the principles of rap was Give Peace a Chance, Falcon retorts that the principle of rap consists in pissing him off, and Ševča musingly adds that that’s how he knows his youth has gone – new styles irritate, rather than fascinate him.
And now we’re getting even older. How? What I’ve just described had happened back in ’90 or ’91. A month ago I overheard a local radio jock announce “Next day’s a RETRO day! From midnight to midnight we’re only broadcasting THE NINETIES!” I realized that in the eyes of today’s teenagers my generation is no longer old – it must be already ancient.
I told this second anecdote to a few of my old Tech mates ten days ago at our reunion as we were smoking outside the pub, and everybody had that “know exactly what you mean” look.
After all, the oldest offspring of some of us is already past the teenage stage, and we even have the first grandfather among us…
(First published on Blogger on 27 Sep ’11, give or take a day.)