On being old but not feeling old and vice versa...

"It's a shame that youth is wasted on the young."

- George Bernard Shaw

(probably1)

Have you ever absentmindedly caught a glimpse of your reflection and found you look older than you remember? I have. I managed to do that this very evening, in fact, on the bus home from work. I looked like someone who, in my youth, I would have called an adult.

I don’t feel old, though. At least, I don't think I do. I seldom feel grown-up. I rarely feel like a capable, well-adjusted adult. I do feel like I’ve experienced a lot more of the world than the vast majority of people due, in no small part, to my privileged upbringing and (useful) job. But I do not feel ‘old’.

I wonder if I’ll feel old when I’m 41?

Quick poll - if you’re 41 (or thereabouts), do you feel old?

I’m not saying I necessarily regard everyone aged 41-and-up as ‘old’, but I’d be interested to know if you yourself do.

There is, of course, that fun saying ‘You’re only as old as you feel’. But I've always found I get stuck at the first hurdle when I start to wonder how old I feel. By what criteria can we properly judge something that is so very subjective?

I asked a colleague of mine this afternoon if he felt old and he immediately said, “yes”. (He is the same age as me.) He then took a moment to have a think about it and said, “not necessarily old per se, but ‘less fun’”. (He then rattled off some analogy about ducks being in a row or something. I don’t know. I’d never heard it before.) But thinking about this, I couldn't help but feel it was rather unfair to the elderly. Surely becoming less fun is not a criteria of being old?

There's another saying that springs to mind - 'You don't stop having fun because you grow old, you grow old because you stop having fun.' And another one that says 'Growing old is mandatory. Growing up is optional'. We could go on long enough to fill a house with embroidered cushions. 

It does make me wonder - is the sort of fun one has doing crossword puzzles the same as the sort of fun one has playing duck, duck, goose? Is becoming more mature in the way you have fun the same as becoming old? I think before I write my next thesis on this website, it might be best to stop and just admit that the criteria are not objectively measurable and the whole thing is just slightly frustrating to think about.

I remember when I was about 15 trying to imagine what I’d feel like when I was 25 and finding it almost impossible. I think that this may have been because I had not yet experienced being in a workforce, or having a degree, or being able to drive a car. Now that I have those experiences under my belt, though, I still find it difficult to imagine how it will be any different in 10… 20… 25 years’ time. What could possibly change from here? 

Will I just get tired quicker?

I don't know folks, but if getting more tired is all there is, I hope I have not discovered my criteria.

1 https://quoteinvestigator.com/2015/09/07/young/

On Mugs...

"World's okayest employee"
- Probably at least one mug in every office in the country

I’ve been having a little problem recently at work.

It concerns mug ownership.

You can probably spot the issue already, but I’m going to ramble my way through an explanation regardless because it’s my blog and I can write what I damn well please.

In my office we have a large number of free, branded, company-supplied mugs. They are easily accessible, always clean, and number roughly twice as many as the number of workers we actually have in the office. We also have a much smaller number of personal mugs that have been brought in by individuals to be used, one would reasonably presume, by the individuals to whom they belong. In essence, my office is the proverbial land of mugs and honey - a land where one is given the power to choose their own destiny when it comes to mugs. If they are content to use an office-supplied mug, they may, but if they would prefer to pay for and use their own, this is absolutely 100% fine too. It is, ostensibly, a mug-based utopia.

Having weighed my options carefully in the above regard, I recently decided to take advantage of the generous company policy and purchase myself a lovely, large, purple mug. I chose a lovely, large, purple mug for a number of reasons, but mostly so that it would be easily identifiable in the otherwise red-and-white mug-sea occupying the kitchen cupboards.

I would like to pause here to make it clear that I am not a petty person by nature. Being an elder sibling, I learnt at a very young age that sharing is caring, and was forced to make Compromise the foundation stone on which I laid my library of language and social skills(1). But even I fail to see, in a situation where the necessity to share is not present, and where, in fact, the supply equals twice that of the demand, any reason not to assume that if I were to add my own mug to the collection, I would have the exclusive use of my mug.

Let’s imagine the same scenario, for example, with an umbrella. Say your company supplied umbrellas for inclement weather, but they were all grey and black and depressing, so you decided, in spite of the free ones being offered, that you would bring in your own bright, yellow umbrella. Say that a colleague(2), in being given the choice in the office to now use the company-supplied umbrella, or a yellow umbrella that did not belong to them OR the company they worked for, decided to take your yellow umbrella out with them meaning that you would not be able to use it yourself. How does that make you feel? Because it makes me a little bit uncomfortable. As there is no interaction between yourself and the colleague, it's, in essence, stealing.

Now both you and I know this is not a new phenomenon in the shared history of human experience - in fact, it’s become somewhat of a cliche, especially in office-based sitcoms. Further, I'm more than willing to admit that using someone else's mug is not the most horrific of crimes. The thing is, though, knowing the office-based sitcoms and cliches attached, I do feel a bit smug in saying I kind-of-sort-of preempted the situation that followed...

You see, when I bought my lovely, large, purple mug, I made sure to also have it branded in big, bold letters, with the title of my podcast. So when I say that for the last two weeks I have had the joy of using it only once, I can rest easy in the knowledge that instead of sitting on my desk(3), it has been making the rounds in the office, providing free advertising.

(The only complaint I have with all of this is that the company-supplied free mugs are slightly smaller than my mug, and it would be nice to have access to a larger volume of tea now and then.)

(1) It was either that or deal with my younger sister sulking for a week.
(2) Who, let’s face it, probably isn’t even an acquaintance
(3) Which is in a corner and arguably the one area of the office where the advertising is pretty much useless

On Children and My Intolerance Of Them...

"I don't dislike children, I just don't particularly want to be around with them a lot. Problem is, neither do their parents."

- Bill Maher

I hate children. 

I should point out that I do not hate any specific child - but between them, they have pilfered all of my straws and I find myself now straw-poor. In fact, you might say, I have only one lone straw left.

Yes, I have been known to smile at the naivety of something a child has said and I agree they’re a necessary factor in the continuation of our species… but lord almighty they are they the most annoying, stupid, tactless little monsters the world ever saw. 

By all rights, my hatred of children should not be the problem it is. If it were up to me, I would keep to myself and stay the heck away from them if I could. I am perfectly happy not have anything to do with them. The trouble is, so, it seems, are their parents.

I work in retail. It’s the curse of any struggling student who’s slowly working their way through university, hoping to come out the other side with a ticket to a more interesting (or more economically driven) way of making money. Unfortunately in the interim, while we become qualified to do the more interesting jobs, we tend to get stuck working at cafes and retail outlets. And in my current role, my specific woes all seemed to emanate from the fact that parents just don’t look after their kids(1).

I don’t think there’s been a week that’s gone by this year when I haven’t run after some kid who’s been trying to climb on the displays or picked up a kid who’s run away from the play equipment on the other side of the store and their parents haven’t realised they’ve gone missing. They run around, they scream, they throw things around, and I couldn’t count the number of times I’ve had to stand there while their parents just watch happily, without a single disciplinary word or warning.

I’m not sure whether this is a modern phenomenon or if things were the same a thousand years ago. I know Socrates is supposed to have said, “Children today are tyrants. They contradict their parents, gobble their food, and tyrannise their teachers”, but if anything this just reaffirms my reasons for hating them so much. It seems to me that if way back then children were a known problem, they were dealt with accordingly. So tell me why it’s so hard to deal with them today?

I know there are more laws these days that prevent certain less-than-reasonable tactics, but I'm not suggesting we use unreasonable tactics. If parents are aware that kids will be annoying bloody kids, parents need to handle them. If your kid runs off and decides to play “hide and seek” in amongst the clothes racks, you should be right there to retrieve them, not having a chat to a friend you just happened to bump into while some poor teenage shop attendant forced to run after your little monster precious angel, and drag them back to you. If they pick up something in the store and decide they want to hit it against a pole, no, that is not OK. And unless you’re going to buy said object and let them hit it against things once you own it, bloody well tell them it’s not OK. Don’t let them destroy objects that aren't theirs only to deposit them on some random shelf just before you hit the check-outs. Because it’s not you who’s going to have to find it later and write up a report for a broken item – it’s me.

I beg of you, all you parents or even parent-wannabes out there – look after your children so people like me don’t get stuck with them, because one day I may just lose my last straw.

(1) Massive generalisation, I know, but I'm angry so hush.

On the Modern Day Ritual...

"What if I told you insane was working fifty hours a week in some office for fifty years at the end of which they tell you to piss off; ending up in some retirement village hoping to die before suffering the indignity of trying to make it to the toilet on time? Wouldn’t you consider that to be insane?"

- Garland Greene, (Steve Buscemi), Con Air

I would posit that the term “ritual” is most commonly associated religious practice or cult behaviour. It’s something people do in order to actualise the myths they believe in. The Egyptians did it, the Greeks did it, the Christians still do it, and it’s become clear to me that in general, most people will buy into ritual without even realising that they are.

Nowadays it’s a commonly held belief, in western culture especially, that once we've arrived on this planet, and after we've completed orientation, best practise is to then endeavour to make money and, for bonus points, stay out of everyone else’s way as they endeavour to do the same. From the check-out-attendant to the pastor of your local church to the CEOs of this world, everyone is in it for the long haul and all with one aim in mind – making money(1). Whether it be to provide for your family or fund a trip overseas or buy a new car so that you can show-off to your equally superficial neighbours, it’s a simple fact of life (and a catchy song from a 60s musical) that money makes the world go 'round. We go through school (or not, depending(2)), work the same hours for 5-6 days a week and at the end of the day when we’re old and grey, what do we have to show for it? A super fund that might just cover the cost of living out the rest of your life in some retirement home. We do it because we’re trying to manifest the myth that working and sticking to our little box will give us the greatest benefit at the end of the day – money.

And I’m not trying to say that this is inherently wrong or that we should be trying to overthrow the economic system, because I actually don’t think we have a better alternative at the moment. What I am trying to point out is the depressing situation this puts us humans in. However, the more and more I look at other people’s lives and see this ritual progressing from day to day to day to bloody day, I think surely the end does not justify the means. Security and enough money to live on after the money-making years are through cannot be worth the cost of an entire life(3). Life is priceless and we shouldn’t be spending our lives 9 hours a day, 5-6 days a week doing the same thing we’ve been doing for 30 years, fighting for material wealth.

I’m not saying I can fix this problem or I have an alternative – that sort of thing is for individuals to decide for themselves. I’m just saying it's probably beneficial to be aware of what you’re getting yourself into before you find yourself locked into the religion of society.

As for me? I’ll be doing my damnedest to live differently.

(1) Statistically as close to 'everyone' as makes no difference.
(2) Statistically there is a bit less international conformity here - enough to point out the difference.
(3) Statistically probably closer to 40% of a lifetime... although changing the weighting of different years of life may yield alternative metaphorical results