Consider the following list of recent reminders that I turned 45 in August:
- A friend emailed me to report that he’s hearing late-era songs by The Who, Rolling Stones, Bruce Springsteen, and U2 on an Oldies radio station in New York. (These stations were like the soundtrack to the movie American Graffiti when I was growing up. I don’t know what’s worse, that Oldies stations have changed or that my friend listens to Oldies stations.)
- As I wrote last week, I just attended an actual U2 concert, but what I didn’t say then was that I could not believe how many old-looking people were there. (I reassured myself that I looked much better, much younger, than my peers, but am I just in denial?)
- At the very same U2 concert, the opening act was the Black Eyed Peas, a hip-hop group that appeared to be enormously popular, judging by the crowd’s reaction, judging by their singing along and screaming out their approval. Black Eyed Peas has been together nearly a decade and a half, they’re internationally famous, they’ve sold millions and millions of records… and I didn’t know one song.
- Yesterday I read in the New York Times that a Broadway revival of Neil Simon’s Brighton Beach Memoirs closed after only one week, shocking the playwright and critics who gave it good reviews. The article contains this quote: “To that end, if ticket sales before the critics’ reviews were any measure, Mr. Simon struck many people as passé.” (I watched the TV show The Odd Couple, based on Simon’s play and movie, religiously in reruns when I was growing up, and I loved his autobiographical stage and film trilogy of Brighton Beach, Biloxi Blues, and Broadway Bound. And now it’s passé. Oy.)
- I work at a university and have a 12-year old son, meaning that, on a daily basis, I am reminded about just how little I know concerning the latest music, fashions, TV shows, movies, video games, lingo, behaviors, etc.
My new goal is to live long enough to hear Death Cab For Cutie on an Oldies radio station.