Last night I had dinner in the East Village. As I walked along St. Mark's Place I passed a tattoo parlor where a guy stood out front practically throwing fliers at the pedestrians. A couple of people ahead of me had ignored him, so as I went by I took one. It wasn't until I had it in my hand that I realized he wasn't trying to give me one... Understandable, I guess. I'm not really his 'target audience'. I wasn't even when I used to hang out down there ten years ago.
I'm not quite the mom from 'Almost Famous', but I'm not your typical East Village hipster either. I felt out of place and old. And that's not so strange, because at this point there are those who would agree with me that I am old. But this feeling isn't new to me...
I'm reminded of when, in my late twenties, I went along with my 'cool' friends who wanted tattoos. I've always been hopelessly un-hip - and maybe that's why I got my belly button pierced that day... The piercing didn't make me cool - well, it did make me a little cooler - but not as cool as my friends (who decided not to get the tattoos after all.) And I think feeling un-cool is fairly normal... But at the time I also felt old - which seems ridiculous to me now.
I don't feel terribly different from when I was twelve, or twenty-two, or thirty... People say "age is only a number" - and I think they're right. But for some reason whatever that number is seems to me to be 'too old'. I could blame it on our societal obsession with youth, or on an overly nostalgic sensibility - but that would be a waste of time. I know at some point I'll look back at how I am now and think of this as 'young'. May as well start now.
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