Feb
Rant: An Unwinnable Race
I turned 30 last year. A nice, round number. By itself, it didn’t mean much besides playfully torturing my dear old dad about having a 30-year-old daughter. Which was admittedly damn good fun. Maybe with thirty years in existence, I can finally say I know a thing or two about a thing or two. And one thing I know - I’m going to have a much harder time turning 31 in July than I did with the supposedly bigger birthday.
Once my personal odometer entered the thirties, my life suddenly became a race against an unwinnable opponent. I’m sprinting against the clock, trying to do all that I want to do while I’m still “young enough” to enjoy it and to reap the benefits. I’m trying to make my business boom, to start a publishing career, to travel and buy a house and engage in philanthropy and make a damn difference. And I feel like if it all doesn’t happen in the next couple years, I’m doomed to miss it all.
“I don’t want to get off on a rant here,” as Dennis Miller would say, but when the human woman’s lifespan reaches over 70, why do I feel at 30 like I’ve only got a few years left? Why do I feel like I’m becoming more and more irrelevant by the minute, like there’s precious little time left when in all likelihood there are another thirty+ years in the offing?
When I take a semi-objective look at it all, I see a couple reasons. Youth is king. Always has been, I guess, but I never noticed as much because I was part of said “youth.” We’re obsessed with youth, maybe because of the implication of innocence, perhaps innocence that has long been lost if it ever existed in the first place. We believe that beauty is only inherent in fresh, young faces and flawless bodies. We revere youth because we fear the opposite, the aging that leads to death. And youth is severely limited, shown by TV viewer demographics (the prized 18-29 group) and the unspoken assumption that teens and twentysomethings have cornered the market on cool.
Here’s another reason that relates to business and writing. Consider all the new wildly successful entrepreneurs and moneymakers that are painfully young. The trend is enough that some universities are instituting their own “become a filthy-rich entrepreneur while you’re still in school, kids!” programs. Now I don’t have as a goal to get rich, but I do have business standards I’d like to achieve. And with all these “young punks” redefining age and business success, I’m feeling the pressure.
So there’s my rant and my plea. Give the thirtysomethings a chance, I say. And I’ll keep the bitching about my aching back and growing taxes to myself.
