I have to admit that I forget that I am getting older most days. My 15 year old does her best to remind me that--in fact I am no longer young and moms of a certain age should not be singing along to the radio or dancing around the house.
However on more than one occasion when I have been engaged in a conversation about music with someone born in the latter half of the last century, I get a confused look. I hear them saying to themselves--"who is this strange woman-child and why does she speak like one of my peers?" I am usually a bit demur and apologetic about my interest in new music- like I can't help myself. "Um yeah I do think Jack White is a crazy genius."
Last week I was getting my hair cut and highlighted by the most charming 20ish stylist with many fabulous tattoos peeking out from his sleeves. We talked the usual small talk about celebrities and current events until I heard a Mason Jennings on their music mix. When I proceeded to tell him about the fabulous concert I went to last summer with Mason Jennings and Cloud Cult he stopped and stared at me with the "wait- aren't you too old for that?" look. Luckily I really am too old to care what he thinks.
It's been a while but the Whack ol Ladies are going out tomorrow. Jeremy Messersmith will be singing at the Varsity.
I remember how distressed I felt, when a not much younger hairdresser gave me what I termed a "Mom" haircut. I made sure the next hairdresser at least let me fantasize that she knew who I was, by asking for a semi-punk rock hairdo. I wanted that modicum of control over who she thought I might be now.
ReplyDelete