Musings on aging...

I was driving in Patrick's car last night (which has a working stereo!), listening to the radio and rocking out quite happily. I glanced down at the display to see which channel I was listening to and was disturbed to see the station's description; When did the Violent Femmes and Nirvana become "classic rock?" Hmmm? I mean, REALLY? Classic Rock is stuff that my parents grew up with, not the music that I love! After all, those songs were on when I was in high school and high school was ONLY.... oh. Wait. Yeah... 16 years ago.

Damn.

It's quite alarming to realize that I can distinctly remember what life was like over 2 decades ago (and further). It was also a bit disturbing to digest the reality that the 16 year old I was talking to a few weeks ago was born while I was graduating. I mean... Damn. I am NOT an old chick! Except that, well, I guess I am...

Sigh...

Also, why is it that we call babies and toddlers' tantrums "cute" and "adorable" and then, when we age and become elderly, we suddenly become "cute" and "adorable" again? I don't think I've ever heard of a woman who was between the ages of 30-60 being called cute. But when we hit 70 or 80, and still have strong opinions on life and how we want things, people smile indulgently and pat us on our heads and shuffle us off, commenting on how high-spirited we are... That's freaking scary! Don't call me a "firecracker" if I'm waving my cane at your head and complaining about the consistency of my Jell-O. That'll only ensure that you get smacked with it!

On that note, I have to shower and dress and get my troops to do the same thing so that we can attend a graduation party for a cousin who can't possibly have just graduated high school, given that he was honestly born only a few years ago...