The other day I felt just how old I was. In a major city I wouldn't be old, more middle aged for working at a media company, but at
Balloon House
I was definitely the boomer. Everybody else was either fresh out of college or still in it. Our budget forced us to use that kind of labor. Thing was that I wasn't even so old, but these kids treated me like a grandpa who didn't belong. A spectator.
Kind of annoyed me, being blunt with you. But such an annoying backdrop allows for diamonds to shine through the dirt.
"Say. You're older than all of us, but you're not like old," said
Jeannie Hammond
one day while we were walking back after lunch. I guess during lunch I had spilled some beans about how I was worried about old people stuff. Becoming obsolete, retirement... things like that.
"How old are you by the way."
"36."
"See, that's not old. I think I would like to be 36."
"Want to trade?"
"Not right now I mean. I mean that when I arrive at 36 I won't be one of the people who look back wishing they were 23."
"So you're 23?"
"Soon 24."
"Good age."
"What were you up to back then?"
Good question I said then provided a vague, generic statement of what I had been up to without painting my actual character any more richly. We were already approaching the office. Plus it wasn't something I had been thinking about and I found that I had little to say about it on the spot.