Over The Hill
This week, my husband and I got old.
We are, officially, curmudgeon and curmudgeoness. Sourpuss and sourboots.
My husband has turned into the grumpy guy who thinks everything is too dang loud and every event is televised too darn late.
I have turned into the mother who scowls at the 90-lb mom piloting a 17-passenger SUV while typing on her Blackberry. I am especially disturbed at the number of brain-dead teenagers who race down our road and roll through the stop sign.
My husband was lucky enough to receive an invitation to the Yankees game last night. All day long he had pep-in-his-step. Like a little boy, he dug deep in our hat-and-mitten bin to find his Yankee hat and dashed out the door at 6 p.m. to take a train to the game. He was psyched.
This morning was a different story. He looks, sounds, and probably feels like death warmed over. “No one who usually goes to bed at 9:30 p.m. should eat a foot-long hot dog at 11 p.m.,” was his explanation. He also reported to me that the between-innings entertainment was apocalyptically loud. If the flashing lights and ear-splitting rap/rock weren’t enough to rattle you, he said, a glowing, orange blimp bearing the name CONAN hovered ominously over the stadium all night. He is a bit shaken up.
Needless to say, this is not the same guy I married 10 years ago. But I’m not the same either. I used to read the sports section of three or four newspapers every day. Now I read Are You My Mother? and Dinosaurs Go to School three or four times a day. I used to jump at a spontaneous suggestion to visit the beer garden on a bright fall afternoon. Now, since it would require filling a backpack with diapers and wipes and hand sanitizer and bananas and juice cups – and scheduling it around nap times -- I’d rather pass.
Here we are, a year or two away from 40, acting like we’re Edith and Archie.
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May '10
Re: Over The Hill
Edith and Archie were #1 in TV ratings for years. Chin up!
May '10
Re: Over The Hill
But enjoy it anyway, because soon enough you'll look back on the days of reading "Are You my Mother?" and think those were good times--which by the way is exactly the feeling I got reading your post. In fact, that little bird and the digger thing and the airplane and all the rest would have been lost to memory if you hadn't mentioned it.
Sep '10
Re: Over The Hill
I'm 45 with two small kids (6&7). It only gets worse. Sorry...Just felt that had to be said.
Jun '10
Re: Over The Hill
What I liked about "All in the Family" was that there was nothing PC about it. Archie was allowed to make his case, and then everyone around him told him, and showed him, what a bigoted ignoramus he was. And Archie wasn't always wrong--just always clumsy. Archie's offensive free speech was cured with the free speech of others--not by shutting him up. Back then, people had thicker skin, and had more faith that the Public could figure out who was right, and who was full of b.s. Nowadays, nobody trusts the Public to figure it out for themselves. That's what's sad.
May '10
Re: Over The Hill
Three sure signs of my own geezerdom:
1. I was producing a women's sporting event and well aware that the participants were closer to my daughter's age than mine, I looked at an exceptionally attractive young woman and said to myself, "Man, I'd really like to see her mom!" I related this story to a colleague and he told me to buck up, at least I wasn't thinking about Grandma.
2. My wife bought a new box springs and mattress this summer. It's huge, not in area but in thickness. It made the bed at least a foot higher. Looking down at my feet swinging high above the floor I said to my wife, "I have now reached the point in my life when the most dangerous thing I can do in bed is fall out of it."
3. Bringing my son home from baseball practice an attractive blonde pulled her yellow Corvette up next to the family minivan. After she pulled away I said to my boy, "Nice car." My son looked at me and said, "Car? What car?"
Aug '10
Re: Over The Hill
Ursula Hennessey
He also reported to me that the between-innings entertainment was apocalyptically loud. If the flashing lights and ear-splitting rap/rock weren’t enough to rattle you, he said, a glowing, orange blimp bearing the name CONAN hovered ominously over the stadium all night. He is a bit shaken up.
Heyyy, there's nothing "old" about wanting to protect your eyes and ears from assault.
Lots of young musicians I know are wary about damaging their hearing, and limit their time in noisy places or wear earplugs.
My suggestion: carry earplugs in your purse or wallet! Seriously.
I do this to protect my ears, especially when one of my Dear Relatives invites me to a performance of his band -- and all the other bands playing before and after his are even louder! I've discovered that the professional sound-checkers at these events wear earplugs, too, to protect their professional prowess.
For flashing lights... maybe bring along sunglasses?
I know our teens are not only going to get lectures about the dangers of sex and drugs, but about the dangers of hearing-loss, too. There is nothing glamorous about going deaf!
Jun '10
Re: Over The Hill
Boy the way Glen Miller played
Songs that made the hit parade.
Guys like us we had it made,
Those were the days.
And you knew who you were then,
Girls were girls and men were men,
Mister we could use a man
Like Herbert Hoover again.
Didn't need no welfare state,
Everybody pulled his weight.
Gee our old LaSalle ran great.
Those were the days.
Aug '10
Re: Over The Hill
Ursula Hennessey
I have turned into the mother who scowls at the 90-lb mom piloting a 17-passenger SUV while typing on her Blackberry.
My observation about suburbia -- call it Midget's Law if you like: The bigger the SUV, the smaller and blonder the woman driving it.
Edited on Oct 10, 2010 at 12:52pmRe: Over The Hill
Midget Faded Rattlesnake
Ursula Hennessey
I have turned into the mother who scowls at the 90-lb mom piloting a 17-passenger SUV while typing on her Blackberry. I am especially disturbed at the number of brain-dead teenagers who race down our road and roll through the stop sign.
My observation about suburbia -- call it Midget's Law if you like: The bigger the SUV, the smaller and blonder the woman driving it. · Oct 10 at 9:31am
And the less common sense/driving skills? Man, I'm truly frightened when I see moms texting while driving with kids in the back seat. It's shocking. And shockingly common for me to see.
Edited on Oct 10, 2010 at 10:03amMay '10
Re: Over The Hill
Here's one more from Joseph Epstein which I thought was cute: He says he can now compliment a young cashier on her pretty eyes w/o her thinking he's hitting on her.
I'm not there yet, but it does strike me as a pleasant place to be. I often have the inclination to pass along such compliments but refrain for that very reason.
Edited on Oct 10, 2010 at 9:53amAug '10
Re: Over The Hill
Ursula Hennessey
And the less common sense/driving skills? Man, I'm truly frightened when I see moms with kids in the back seat texting. It's shocking. And shockingly common for me to see.
Well, my generation was taught that The Future Belongs to the Multitaskers. They even imported motivational speakers into our school to drive home this message -- as if teenagers already used to not giving anything their undivided attention needed more motivation to do this.
I'd say that these mothers have learned that lesson very well.
I wouldn't text while driving -- but then I'm part of the 7 to 20% minority who believes that their innate driving skills are worse than average. (I've not yet been at fault for an accident, though -- though I've been rear-ended twice, once by a speeding cabbie and once while legally parked).
Actually, I don't text at all -- haven't learned. I consider it to be too much of a temptation, as well as costing extra.
Edited on Oct 10, 2010 at 12:45pmRe: Over The Hill
Speaking as a longtime resident of Middleageville, welcome, Ursula and Matt. A handful of notes about the bright side of all this:
- In just a couple of years, you'll be through the most difficult period, which is hitting you just now. No, you won't feel younger. But your children will have become old enough to have become--and this sounds hokey but is in fact utterly glorious--Bearers of the Future. Even as your own world begins to shrink to staying home and completing your duties--making the meals, doing the laundry, paying the mortgage--you'll watch in growing wonderment and joy as their world opens out to school, new friendships, life beyond.
Edited on Oct 10, 2010 at 11:16amRe: Over The Hill
One last note: No, your husband is no longer quite the man you married, nor are you quite the woman he married. But middle age brings with it a certain ability to understand, from the inside, so to speak, the theology of marriage. I'm sure there are counterparts to this in Protestant and Jewish understanding, but, for us papists, it can be simply stated: "The grace of the sacrament" is more than a form of words.
One other thing may start happening. You may start giving long, pompous speeches like this one.
No go lie down. Sunday afternoon is the time for us old folks to take our naps.
Edited on Oct 10, 2010 at 11:19amMay '10
Re: Over The Hill
Welcome to the jungle.
Aug '10
Re: Over The Hill
Is there a year at which one is middle- aged by definition, regardless of state of mind or physical attributes? If so, what is it? And in the interests of completeness, when is "old"?
May '10
Re: Over The Hill
Play the "Double Game." When I was 30 I thought, yeah, I can make 60. When I hit 40 I even thought 80 was do-able. Age 45 and 90 looked iffy. When I hit 50... No way. I am over that hill and on the back 9.
May '10
Re: Over The Hill
Edith and I congratulate you on achieving this milestone. Our book of choice during those years was Fox in Sox (tomatuh, tomaatuh).
Regards,
Arch
May '10
Re: Over The Hill
Yeah, but we're still going to have a really good time Friday night.
Re: Over The Hill
True, dat.
Aug '10
Re: Over The Hill
My wife and I knew we were old when not talking to one another (or anyone else for that matter) became our favorite post 8:30pm activity. Our love for not talking is one of the most important things we have in common (that's stolen from Best in Show of course).