A few reflections on getting older

By Brian D. Rossman

Today is my birthday. It kind of sneaked up on me. Just like life. My girlfriend asked me if I wanted to go to dinner anywhere special. "Special?" I asked. Then it struck me. Has another year already passed? Where did the time go? I did not feel older, though, just old. Here's why:

A good friend's little sister celebrated her birthday this week as well. Growing up, I remember that she always asked to tag along with our group. We tried to dissuade her. "You will cramp our style. You can't get in to the places we can go," we explained. She was in eighth grade when we were well into high school. Now she was 30! (Happy Birthday, Laura.)

I recently went to a movie that people recommended as "hip," "must-see" and "hot." As a movie enthusiast and a frequent cinema attendee, I often see movies based on word-of-mouth recommendations. For the first time in my life, I walked out during a scene in the recommended movie. With reservations, I returned to see the end. What offended me to the point of leaving the theater? Language? Gratuitous sex? Over the top violence? Even worse--disgusting scatalogic visuals and other potty humor.

When I was a Little Leaguer watching the Major League baseball playoffs, I would identify with the players. I memorized their statistics from the back of their baseball cards. I watched their games imagining myself in their shoes. "In ten years, I could make that catch for the A's," I thought. But the players that I watched as a child have long retired. Occasionally, I may spot them at an Old Timer's game, in the radio booth as an announcer, or on television plugging pain relievers.

I never paid to much attention to the sign at the check out counter at my supermarket before. "If you are purchasing alcohol or cigarettes and look younger than 35, please be prepared to show your identification." Now it may be improper for this store to assume that age and looks are related. However, unless you are Dick Clark or Zsa Zsa Gabor, there is a correlation between a person's age and appearance. That is why I was not looking forward to purchasing the bottle of Cabernet in my hand. Just as I suspected, the dialogue was limited to a breezy "hello," and "paper or plastic?" No request for my identification was made. The clerk did not know that I was about to turn 33.

Commercials for vanity products used to amuse me when I was younger. "Who would ever spend money on that crap?" I remember asking my mom. With tremendous insight, that I now see comes with age, she patiently explained that those products were not targeted for me. They were for adults. Just ignore them. But don't ever make fun of anyone who purchases or uses those products. Sage advice that is wasted on youth. I recall being in our local drug store giggling with my friends as the man in front of us was purchasing Grecian Formula. Who would have suspected that I would be in that same checkout stand twenty years later with a bottle of Rogaine?

Nothing can make us feel older than looking back at high school. Those days were spent as unbridled youth. No urgency, no dependents, no Palm Pilot. I don't look back often. My life is much easier when I look forward. However, every five years, it's reunion time. My 15-year Del Mar High School reunion will be underway next summer. I plan on attending. Why? I want to see if life sneaked up on anyone else.

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Brian Rossman: A few reflections on getting older

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