Wait, I'm How Old?

The fact that I can remember the professional pinnacles of three celebrities who died last week (Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson, all with careers that peaked in either the ‘70s or ‘80s) has left me feeling a little old. Not that it’s the first time.

Nevertheless, this seemed like a good opportunity to ponder what it means to be my age: 30 something.

In your 30s, you realize you’re no longer the target audience for things like athletic shoes or energy drinks, and discover instead that every advertisement geared towards you includes baby food or life insurance policies.

In your 30s, you no longer need an alarm clock to wake up before 8 a.m. If you have kids, they wake you up long before that. If you don’t have kids, you still wake up before 8 a.m. because… well, you’re 30.

In your 20s, you can get a full night’s rest by sleeping in a folding chair and not feel the least bit sore the next day. In your 30s, you can get a full night’s rest on a comfortable mattress and wake up with a mysterious injury that can only be explained in the following manner: “I must have slept on my (name of injured body part) wrong.”

Your 30s is the first time in your life when every car you own throughout the decade is “practical.”

You’re no longer embarrassed to yell at passing vehicles that are driving too fast.

Filing your taxes becomes infinitely more complicated and/or expensive.

You start to take serious stock of your diet.

If you’re single and in your 30s, odds are you’ve tried clinging to your youth by going out to a club or two, and have been in complete denial about the fact that everyone inside is staring at you and thinking, “Wow, that’s sad. One of his friends should really say something to him.”

In your 30s, you start to move into managerial roles at work.

Or worse – you don’t. Then before long you realize everyone in your department is 5-10 years younger than you and that you really need to get it together and start moving into a managerial role.

In your 30s, you give up trying to follow the most current popular music and proudly make claims like, “Bon Jovi should go down as one of the all-time great bands in history.”

You convince yourself that you can still do everything, physically, that you could do in your 20s, only to receive serious medical attention for the bone/muscle/cartilage that you broke/fractured/pulled/tore/shattered while proving yourself wrong.

In your 30s, you form comfortable patterns at home and at work. Each day largely resembles the one before, with very little excitement to punctuate the passing hours. You either feel happy about your routine or begin to think, “Oh yeah, I can definitely see a mid-life crisis on the horizon.”

In your 30s, you no longer make your beer choices based on whatever’s cheapest. Which is a good thing.

You also have serious, lengthy political conversations without ever hearing the words, “The government should just legalize pot.” Which is nice too.

In your 30s, you begin to appreciate what your parents were getting at, and think the response, “Because I said so” is a damn good reason for telling your own kids to do something.

And finally, in your 30s, you find yourself thinking life’s not so bad after all because “at least I’m not in my 40s.”