Screen Shot 2015-05-03 at 9.34.09 AMSo there’s this awful website,, that allows you to submit a picture and it’ll tell you, well, how old you look.

The above image is me.


I know I don’t look 70. And I guess I don’t really care how old I look. But, well, age really just jumps out of a dark space and surprises you. Last week I was 21. Wasn’t it? Standing behind the Stole Balloon, throwing up from Jagermeister shots. That was last week. Or maybe two weeks ago. And now … my back is awful. I can’t run any longer. And, apparently, I look 70.

I’m happy in my life. I truly am. But—just being honest here—I’m jealous of lost youth. Last night, for example, I drove past a house in our neighborhood where a party was going on. It was a bunch of 20-somethings, standing in the street, music blaring, iPhones lighting up the night. There were females in short shorts, guys in tight Ts … and I felt like the Ghost of Christmas Past, looking at what was but will never again be. I didn’t want to jump out of my car and hang with these people. I mean, I’m not quite sure what we’d talk about. But I … I wanted to be them. Young and ambitious and filled with hope and burdened by surface worries. No bills to pay, no 6:40 am alarms blaring. Just innocence and optimism.

I’m only 43. It’s not too old. But I’m starting to feel old. And it sucks. I don’t see the benefits of aging, except you’re not dead. I mean, people say, “Oh, you gain wisdom.” But, eh, I can do without more wisdom.

I want to run a marathon, then go out drinking with my friends, then sleep until noon the next day.

Alas, I’m an adult.


1 thought on “Aged”

  1. I’ve said this before. You aren’t old until you know you have already lived more years than you have years left.
    Perfectly reasonable you will hit 86, even 100.
    No way I hit 126.
    I also don’t feel or think as old as you do…maybe I do hit 126.

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