"What do you think? Guess," I say.
"29."
"You?"
"Thirty...five."
"You?"
"Forty-five."
"Forty-five?"
"Yes."
"You?"
"39?"
"And you?"
"30."
"The correct answer is 34. You were close! Except... 45?!"
Laughter.
"Your beard..."
When I was 23 my roommates and I had just had dinner with the mother of the friend who was living on our couch. I mentioned something about being 23, and the friend's mother remarked, "Huh... you act like you're 32."
Later, my friend told me that his mother complimented my beard, which was much smaller then. I still rib him for that.
After being told I had a baby face for much of my early adulthood, I always relished being mistaken for an older gentleman. Now I'm three months shy of having no legal excuses for not fulfilling the presidential ambitions of my seven year-old self, and I'm not sure how I feel about the overestimates of my age.
Often, when age comes up in class, I'm eventually asked, and I always challenge them to guess. I started teaching at this school when I was 29, and back then people guessed I was between 23 and 35, with someone always aiming high in the 40's. Now I rarely receive guesses below 25, and most people pretty accurately pin me in the mid-30's.
Some white whiskers started appearing in my beard three years ago. I used to snip them out with surgical precision, especially after rereading the section from Jitterbug Perfume where Alobar has to escape a death sentence because his people's tradition was to execute the king as soon as a white whisker gave evidence of age. Not to spoil anything, but he ends up living a while, and having the best sex of his life! After I reread that, I tend to let nature run its course.
Today I was reading this Atlantic article about mid-life crisis, something which I hope is still thirty years away, if at all. Basically, the more you think about your connections to other people and appreciate what you have and the less you think about competition, the more psychologically prepared you will be. Then again, they also say that, according to the U-curve, people are supposed to, on average, become less happy from their early 20's all the way into their 40's, and that hasn't been my trajectory so far. In fact, I remember my parents saying that their 30's were the best because they didn't have all those anxieties and neuroses from their 20's, but were still young enough to enjoy the benefits. I guess there are no rules, only experiences.
And white beards have their charm, yes? There are plenty of role models: Santa Claus, Walt Whitman, my dad, Zeus and The Most Interesting Man in the World...
That said, our goals are still goals, and a little healthy competition with the self can push you to greater joy.
Despite what one student may have thought, I ain't 45, so I gotta keep moving. I've been given more days, so that seems like the right way.
"29."
"You?"
"Thirty...five."
"You?"
"Forty-five."
"Forty-five?"
"Yes."
"You?"
"39?"
"And you?"
"30."
"The correct answer is 34. You were close! Except... 45?!"
Laughter.
"Your beard..."
When I was 23 my roommates and I had just had dinner with the mother of the friend who was living on our couch. I mentioned something about being 23, and the friend's mother remarked, "Huh... you act like you're 32."
Later, my friend told me that his mother complimented my beard, which was much smaller then. I still rib him for that.
After being told I had a baby face for much of my early adulthood, I always relished being mistaken for an older gentleman. Now I'm three months shy of having no legal excuses for not fulfilling the presidential ambitions of my seven year-old self, and I'm not sure how I feel about the overestimates of my age.
Often, when age comes up in class, I'm eventually asked, and I always challenge them to guess. I started teaching at this school when I was 29, and back then people guessed I was between 23 and 35, with someone always aiming high in the 40's. Now I rarely receive guesses below 25, and most people pretty accurately pin me in the mid-30's.
Some white whiskers started appearing in my beard three years ago. I used to snip them out with surgical precision, especially after rereading the section from Jitterbug Perfume where Alobar has to escape a death sentence because his people's tradition was to execute the king as soon as a white whisker gave evidence of age. Not to spoil anything, but he ends up living a while, and having the best sex of his life! After I reread that, I tend to let nature run its course.
Today I was reading this Atlantic article about mid-life crisis, something which I hope is still thirty years away, if at all. Basically, the more you think about your connections to other people and appreciate what you have and the less you think about competition, the more psychologically prepared you will be. Then again, they also say that, according to the U-curve, people are supposed to, on average, become less happy from their early 20's all the way into their 40's, and that hasn't been my trajectory so far. In fact, I remember my parents saying that their 30's were the best because they didn't have all those anxieties and neuroses from their 20's, but were still young enough to enjoy the benefits. I guess there are no rules, only experiences.
And white beards have their charm, yes? There are plenty of role models: Santa Claus, Walt Whitman, my dad, Zeus and The Most Interesting Man in the World...
That said, our goals are still goals, and a little healthy competition with the self can push you to greater joy.
Despite what one student may have thought, I ain't 45, so I gotta keep moving. I've been given more days, so that seems like the right way.
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