My back hurts, I'm broke, and I don't see either uncomfortable truth changing anytime soon. The cursor hovered over the "delete this blog" button for a bit, but I just ended up changing the template instead.
In other news, I drove a guy from the airport to the hotel the other day. He was in town for Bonnaroo and was visiting from Oklahoma City. He was a skinny man with a mop of curly, black hair and cool John Lennon glasses. I changed the radio to WRVU, knowing that he'd appreciate it, and knowing that I'd appreciate leaving the "safe for guests" radio station for a while.
Over the course of the next five to seven minutes, we talked about what the music scene was like in his hometown, what it was like in Nashville, and how we were both equally unexcited about the big Police reunion. Love the band, don't care about them getting back together. It was nice to talk with someone who shared so many of my music interests for a change.
Around the time we got to his hotel, he mentioned that he was actually born nearby in Franklin. That's where I was raised, too. I asked him when he left and he said that it was when he was very young. "I had just finished kindergarten, so I guess it was back in...well, I suppose it was in '89 or maybe 1990."
Wow. Um, that's about the time that I graduated from high school. This kid was half my age. I had pegged him as being older than that. We had just finished talking about rock shows and roadtrips and the like and now he's probably telling his buddies about how the "cool for an old guy" shuttle driver who drove him in from the airport. I guess I'm at peace with that. I remember being his age and working in the record store. I'd meet some of the coolest old people in there. You know, people in their late-30s. I remember one couple, both white Metro school teachers, who were always buying the most diverse stuff. Every couple of weeks, they'd buy a rap tape that was really good. "Poetry of urban life," they would call it. After they'd leave, we'd all talk about how we hoped that we were as cool as them when we were their age.
All I know is that I still like the music that the kids like. So that's something.
6 comments:
Correction: You still like the music that the cool kids like.
Well, I have a few things to say about this:
a) you are not old!
b) don't delete your blog!
c) most of us are broke and our backs hurt, too...
...so, just know that you're not alone!
A. I'm older than you and last night my staff and I went out for a cocktail together. They told me verbatim, "You're pretty cool to be, you know, in your 40's." I thanked them and took the compliment. I also, after spewing on my blog yesterday about a mid-life crisis, felt pretty good about it.
B.) I hope you don't delete your blog because it's a neat place to come to
C.) I had to deplete my savings account on Wednesday for something so devastating and unexpected that it literally took my breath away.
I tell you all of this because I like you and I see you as my cyber buddy, who like cold beer on a Saturday afternoon and hanging out, for one day, with an old coot like me.
Mike, sending you all the good thoughts I have.
You aren't alone. I know that doesn't help, but it would sadden me to lose touch.
And I'm too old for Bonnaroo, what if I had a hot flash in the midst of writhing bodies.
;)
I'm so glad you changed your mind :)
I'm very glad you decided to stick around old guy!
And always keep it real with the kiddos!
Thanks for not deleting your blog. I love coming here to visit. You are cool... and you're not old. I'm fast approaching 50, and I'm loving my 40's. I loved being the "cool mom" and you're going to love being the "cool dad." Happy Father's Day to one of the best! xox
Post a Comment