But wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the Forest, a little boy and his Bear will always be playing.
–A. A. Milne, The House at Pooh Corner (1928)
Onward we roll, with more helpful life rules (guidelines, maybe?). Again, this is just the World According to Me. Your mileage may vary.
In today’s installment, we confront the man of a certain age who refuses to grow up. I’m talking to you, Matthew McConaughey. You and all your sick Delta buddies.
All women grow up. At least, they do right after the first time that life screws them over. Women are the ones who keep things going these days. They raise the children, they keep to schedule, they improve themselves, they care for others, and they keep themselves and their families moving forward. Want to get something done? Put a woman in charge.
On the other hand, want to trade fart jokes? Put a man in charge. Contrary to Don Corleone’s advice (“women and children can afford to be careless, but not men”), however, 21st Century Man seems content to go through life like a child, fleeing from responsibility and ducking his age. Men play Halo. They surf for porn…at work. They play fantasy football, but don't have time to play real ball with their kids. They go on beer runs, and order a lot of pizza. Occasionally they work, but not around the house. They can't ever seem to pay child support. They’re the first ones in and last ones out of the pool. They’re Emeril when it comes to grilling, but seem to have multiple sclerosis when its time to clean up or put the kids to sleep. Archetypal 21st Century Woman: Hillary Clinton. Archetypal 21st Century Man: Homer Simpson.
That has got to change, people. You too, up there in the picture. Douche.
What exactly do I mean by “grow up”? I don't mean cease all fun, or never get out of the rocking chair, or become Alan Harper. I just mean “act your age.” Or, in the immortal words of Lili Taylor in Say Anything, “don’t be a guy, be a man.” There’s nothing worse than some 50 year old guy, rolling around town in a red Corvette, wearing Armani casual clothes (size XL to cover that rotund mass hanging above his belt line), on his way to the club to pawn women half his age. Sporting some sort of neo-Max Headroom hairstyle and tattoos. Casually tossing off pretentious statements about the newest trends. Claiming to know all the "right" people. Going to all the new hot spots.
Its icky.
This "age is a state of mind" business is a bunch of crap. There's plenty of reasons Atticus Finch wouldn't play football with the Methodists.
First off, being 50 and acting 20...its unseemly. Remember when you were a kid, and either your parents or someone else's parents would try to act like they were your age? Using trendy words or wearing trendy clothes? Remember how stupid you thought they were? Bingo. Please do not do anything that makes the rest of us cringe. And because some of you just don't get it, let me be even more clear. This means no: Lady Gaga obsession, skull tattoos, Goldschlager shots, fist bumps, chest bumps, high fives, baggy pants, "man-dannas," watching MTV, or skateboarding. Get a job, a real job, not something where you "consult" once a month or wear a nametag, but seem to always be at the movies or coffee shop during the middle of the workday. Work somewhere with a payroll and a 401k. Don't have a Black Eyed Peas ringtone. Wear nice clothes, listen to classic rock or country, jog or swim, eat sensibly, get enough sleep, watch American Idol if you must but do not talk about it in public, and for the Love of God, do not have any friends who weren't alive in the 1980s. Heed Chris Rock's warning-you don't want to be the old man in the club.
Plus, sorry to say this, but as you grow older, you're expected to set an example. To lead. That means you need to mature. How many times have you heard some kid justify inappropriate or foolhardy behavior by naming some adult who does it? Like Bill Clinton. Its the same in all walks of life. At work, at the club, at the gym, and in whatever other community to which you belong. We don't want to constantly explain away your behavior. "Just because Chris does it doesn't make it right. Besides, do you really want to wind up like him?" Do you really want to be Larry Eustachy, former 47-year-old Iowa State basketball coach, crashing fraternity parties while his team was on the road? Not exactly the sort of thing they'll mention in your eulogy. You can't lead or set an example when people think you're a joke. Your Peter Pan lifestyle isn't making things any better, and makes it harder to justify not setting you adrift on the ice floe once things take a turn for the worse.
Besides, 50 year olds living like twenty-somethings...that's just risky. Ask John Entwistle about continuing to party like a rock star in your 50s. Again, sorry to keep harping on reality, but your 50 year old body just can't hang with the kids. That doesn't mean you have to sit in a wheelchair all day and see whether melanoma or diabetes takes you first. You should lead an active lifestyle. But you should probably take a nap. Eat some vegetables. Drink water. Stay out of the sun. And don't suddenly take up skiing or mixed martial arts or clubbing in your 50s or beyond. Your ligaments are probably just one step short of calcifying. How about going for a walk instead? You need more recovery time. You have less stamina. You just can't play basketball all day and then drink all night. The mind may will it, but your decrepit old bones want none of it.
By no means, however, should you become old Mrs. Dubose in To Kill A Mockingbird, spending your life sitting in your rocking chair with a Confederate pistol under your shawl, ready to whack anyone that steps on your geraniums. Youth is an elixir. Think young. Be active. Have some younger folk among your friends. They challenge you with their innovation, creativity, passion, and exuberance. You can mature and still have fun without becoming a fossil. Have a bowl of ice cream, but lay off the crystal meth (I'm talking to you here, Andre Agassi). Climb the rock wall at your gym or hike the Skyline Trail at Mount Rainier. Just don't go climb Mount Kilimanjaro on a whim or audition for Jackass. Drive a cool car, but not something that screams "I fear hair loss and impotence" as you roll down the boulevard.
Or as an alternative, you could buy a big mansion with pool and hot tub, fill it with servants and bimbos, get a lifetime supply of Viagra, and wear a matching Captain's hat/velour pajamas combo every day. You'd be an idiot, but probably wouldn't care until the money ran out.
Next-Be True to Your School.
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