21: A sobering milestone

At the end of the month, on April 29, I’m going to turn 21.

I know, “woooo,” right? I am… At the end of the month, on April 29, I’m going to turn 21.

I know, “woooo,” right? I am pretty excited because of the obvious sense of legality that it conveys and because that’s also the day that “Grand Theft Auto IV” comes out. After you turn 21, there are pretty much no more age restrictions. You’re old enough to do pretty much whatever you want, except run for president, and to be honest, that wasn’t really in my plans in the first place.

But I’m also kind of nervous for exactly the same reason. No, not “GTA.” The idea that after this month I’m pretty much done with “growing up” in the legal sense of the word is just kind of, well, weird.

I know that it’s ridiculous, but for the first time in my life I actually feel old. Not old in a grandpa sense, but old in that I can remember stuff that happened before a large portion of the population was born. For instance, I have three young cousins, the oldest of whom is 9 years old. Whenever I’m around them, I routinely catch myself saying things like “Man, they’re getting big!” and “I remember when they were in diapers!” Then I pause and think to myself, “Good lord, did I actually just say that?”

Because that’s the kind of thing that old people say. That’s what my parents’ friends said about me when I was a kid, and I’d sit there and think, “Yeah, I’ve actually been out of diapers for years now, thanks.” And now here I am saying the same things to my little cousins. Oh, how the tables turn.

Or to look at it another way, they have no idea what happened on Sept. 11, 2001. Two of them were years from being born, and the third was only a year old. Even my little brother, who was 9 years old at that point, doesn’t attach too much significance to the actual events. He was still learning his multiplication tables at the time, so I can’t really blame him, but still.

And now I’m about to turn 21, which is the last real milestone before stuff like marriage and a house becomes a reality. My older sister very recently got married, and she’s only two years older than I am, and her husband – that still feels weird to say – is only about nine months older than I am. People at the wedding actually asked me if I was planning on getting married soon.

Are you kidding me? I still get a kick out of being able to buy an R-rated movie ticket. Asking me when I’m planning on getting married would be like asking Grandpa when he’s intending to shuffle off to the pearly gates. It’s just not something that I want to think about right now, thank you very much.

Of course, I know there’s nothing I can really do about it. We get older, and that’s just how it goes. The thing is, though, that I don’t really feel old. Like I said earlier, I still like being old enough to buy R-rated movies and M-rated video games. I’m slightly amazed that I’m able to vote. The idea that I’m going to be graduating from college – college! – in a little more than a year is too much for me to handle.

I think what really has me nervous, though, is that it’s completely inevitable. I’m going to get older, and there’s nothing I can do about it. There are very few other things that you absolutely 100 percent cannot avoid in life, so getting old feels particularly odd. The fact that so many people expect you automatically to be ready for life to come flying at you is not as odd, but I think it is unfair.

The fact is, I don’t quite want to be done with school and move on into life just yet. I like it here. I like being able to check the box on forms that lists my occupation as “student.” And if it means that I would get to be young and irresponsible for the rest of forever, I would give up turning 21. Bars aren’t worth that much.

I know this is about as good as wanting to be an astronaut and fly to Jupiter on a giant winged marshmallow.

I’m going to have a birthday in about three weeks. There’s nothing I can do about it, for better or for worse.

It’s like an old “They Might Be Giants” song, where the song keeps telling you that at the exact moment you’re listening to it, you’re older than you’ve ever been. So right now, you, the reader, are older than you’ve ever been in your entire life. Now you’re even older. And older and older and older. So, even though I’m getting older, even though I’m saying things that I never thought I would say, even though I wake up some mornings with an achy back and hobble around my apartment like an 80-year-old, I can take comfort in the fact that everyone else in the world has to deal with the same sort of thing. It’s not the ideal solution, but I guess it’s good enough.

And if worst comes to worst, I’ll still have “GTA” to take my mind off things.

Want to stop aging, too? E-mail Richard at rab53@pitt.edu and tell him all about it.