Age is just a number…

Enjoying some harmless flirting with a security guard at work, when he hits me with this… he’s “25…almost 26”. He might as well have said “25 going on 26”. Half my age! Of course I had a mild panic attack,  which he attempted to cure by telling me age is just a number. Yes, sweetie… fractions are numbers, too.

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55 thoughts on “Age is just a number…

  1. I don’t think about my age until little things like that happen. One of the guys I work with is younger than me, but I didn’t give it much thought until I found out that his mother was also younger than me . . . . . ugh.

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      1. I saw Eartha Kitt perform a few years ago. She had to be in her 70s at the time, but she was still as amazing as ever. At one point in her show she asked a young fellow in the audience how old he was. He said he was 22, and she said, “what a ridiculous age to be”. That’s how I feel when I meet someone half my age, especially if he’s flirting with me.

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  2. 25 was the WORST birthday I ever had! Seriously! I spent an entire week thinking, ‘I;m a quarter CENTURY OLD! That;s ancient!!!’
    Strangely enough, passing the half century mark didn’t bother me.

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    1. At 25, I was so impressed that I had lived a full quarter of a century, that I threw a birthday party for my friends, and gave them gifts that I felt suited their personalities. Two lovely ladies were kind enough to pour me into bed.

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      1. For example, I had a militaristic, 101st Airborne friend, who smoked, whom I gave a grenade-shaped table lighter, and a gay, Black friend (ironically nick-named, “Tuffy“) to whom I gave an antelope, elegantly carved from ebony, by an artist in Africa. Hey, it’s my party, I’ll buy if I want to —

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      1. Although I’m snarky with those stating the obvious, I remember once at a Sadie Hawkins dance one spring a guy said to me, “I’m a junior, almost a senior.” I of course, “no joke?! I’m a freshman almost a sophomore…funny how that works.” 😉

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      1. Come on, this technically makes you a potential cougar. How cool is that? Now, being an actual cougar is not that cool, but it’s great to see you can catch that kind of attention. Even though it is quite funny. It’s like having a baby flirt with you lol

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  3. Just popped in from Knowledge Guild, in response to clicking on your avatar, to say that I am as weird, if not weirder, than you could ever be (but that doesn’t mean I’m not a nice person –).

    As for age, 50 is the new 25.

    Re Eartha Kittt, I saw her on TV the year she died at 80, do a dance, during which she did a deep knee bend, then straight back up, and I’m going, “Whoa! I can’t even do that NOW!” Eartha was some lady!

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    1. Oooh, I LOVE that! Not that I ever dreaded growing older (I honestly don’t think I even considered the possibility) but Mark Twain has such a beautiful way of phrasing the simple/profound truths.

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  4. Interestingly, and speaking of age, I couldn’t help noticing that you’re from Arkansas, the only place I know of, besides Mexico, where the age of consent is 14 years. And to think, that keeping lovely young 14-year old ladies at least a foot further than arm’s length, has kept me out of jail in 49 other states!

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  5. No, but I DO know that Arkansas is the only one where it’s 14 —

    But on the brighter side, let me tell you a story:
    I once hired a guy who turned out to become a personal friend. He was originally from Arkansas. One day, he invited my girlfriend (at the time) and I to spend the weekend with him in his grandmother’s cabin in northwest Arkansas. I had only once been to Arkansas, and then only to Ft. Smith for an hour or two, so I really couldn’t say I had ever seen any part of the state, and needing some time off, I jumped at the chance.

    We drove there, from Oklahoma, arriving about noon on Saturday, enjoyed the afternoon and evening, and next morning, I discovered I had a flat tire (I had no spare – I know, my bad!). My friend said not to worry about it (we were MILES from the nearest town), to wait til about eleven in the morning, then we would start down the road with the tire and within the hour, catch people coming home from church. That worked for me.

    Ever try carrying a tire for a long distance? It’s heavy, and it’s awkward. For a time, you try carrying it with your right hand, resting it against your hip, but after a time, you have to switch to the left hand and left hip, then, a little later, do it all again. I had a brilliant idea – I found a stick in the bar ditch, inserted it in the hole in the wheel, and my friend and I placed one end of the pole on each of our shoulders, sharing the weight of the tire. We walked about another half-mile, when we passed a house in which a man was rocked back on his front porch in a chair. He yelled out to us, “I ain’t never see’d nobody carry a ‘tar’ like that before!” We chatted a bit longer, to be sociable, then continued walking on down the dirt road. Ten or so minutes later, here he came in his car, and offered to take us to town – he said his wife had told him he needed to mop the kitchen floor, and it was then that he realized just how much we needed his help.

    He was a quiet man, not saying much. My friend, a native of the area, had whispered to me before we got in the car, not to offer to pay him for helping us, that he would be insulted – instead, he said, when we got to the station, offer to buy him a “pop.” Apparently he was right, as the man gladly accepted.

    The whole purpose of telling this story, is what happened next – on the way back, just to make conversation with this quiet man, I said that it was certainly pretty country around here.

    He said one of the saddest things I think I’ve ever heard. He said, “Well, I don’t rightly know – I ain’t never been no place else.

    But then, I suppose if you’re where you want to be, that’s OK.

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  6. Every week, I take the train into London for language lessons. Every week, I am subjected to weirdos and apparent by-products of genetic experimentation. However, two weeks ago, a very nicely put together young gentleman sat on the seat next to me. We joked about something or another before I put my headphones in, and tried not to feel too pleased with myself.

    Somewhere between London and the first stop on the way home, I noticed he was holding a rail travel discount card. I have one, mine is a standard network “1/3 off rail fares in a small area of travel” card…

    His said “16-25 Travelcard”.

    I am nearly 37. A little piece of me died that night.

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    1. Isn’t a bit odd that humans are the only animals that are concerned about the age of the participants in romantic/sexual relationships? I think it’s because we plan head, we look at “What will my family think?” – “What will we talk about for the next fifty years?” and a hundred other questions, while in the rest of the animal kingdom, the only real question is, “Hey, wanna do it?”

      BTW -“apparent by-products of genetic experimentation” – loved it, just may steal it and pass it off as my own! Naw, I wouldn’t, but it so good, it’s tempting.

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      1. Please, by all means take it as your own and enjoy it 😀

        I think the problem is that humans are the only species that assess partners on a basis that involves anything more than immediate gratification, reproduction, or physical security.

        Personally, in the fraction of a second I spotted the 16-25 railcard, I thought about the guys who I knew when they were 16, plus MYSELF at 16, and had a massive fast-forward montage playing in my head of all the emotional states, situations and relationships that I had been through to get to where I am now. Then thinking about the guy sat next to me who could potentially have been on the farthest away side of that scale, with me sat on the opposite end, the disparity in emotional position was kinda crushing 😛

        For me personally, attraction is never purely physical, while he was hot (DAMN he was hot…) he stopped being truly attractive to me once the weight of everything I mentioned in the previous paragraph became apparent.

        I genuinely don’t think that the human age bias is ever about age itself, just the emotional experience, or lack of, which that entails. Sometimes it would be nice to belong to a species that didn’t care. Like eagles. Or sloths. No wait!! I have always wanted a tail – lemurs. I wanna be a lemur 😀

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      2. For me personally, attraction is never purely physical, while he was hot (DAMN he was hot…) he stopped being truly attractive to me once the weight of everything I mentioned in the previous paragraph became apparent.

        But didn’t you construct that weight yourself? Other than that, is there any REAL reason you and he (remember, he WAS hot!) couldn’t have gone skipping off, hand in hand, for at least a brief moment in time? And what is life made of, if not brief moments in time?

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      3. I don’t think it has anything to do with what my family will think. It’s more, “am I going to have to spend all day explaining things? Can I make a reference to Jan Brady, or the Skipper, or Leather Tuscadero without having to teach a history lesson?”. I’m guessing my dog wouldn’t have that problem… butt sniffin’ is just butt sniffin’… there are no trends there.

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      4. Can I make a reference to Jan Brady, or the Skipper, or Leather Tuscadero without having to teach a history lesson?” – How often do you reference any of those in the course of a day? If often, you may have much more to be concerned about than you think —

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      5. Those in particular? Well, I DID mention Leather Tuscadero today, when I was talking about what the rain did to my hair. I was a middle child, with an older sister, so Jan Brady could come up at any time. the Skipper… almost never… I just like saying “the Skipper”.

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      6. Understand that I’m not arguing with either of you ladies, I’m just playing devil’s advocate in an effort to get you to think outside of conventional circles – what you do with those thoughts are entirely up to you.

        But an intangible, gossamer thing as time seems too frail a thing to serve as a barrier between two people.

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    2. If only I had stories that began with “Every week, I take the train into London for language lessons”! I think I could cope with anything else! I wonder if your youngster was closer to 16 or 25.

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      1. If only I had stories that began with ‘Every week, I take the train into London for language lessons’!” – Well, you should feel good that unlike most of mine, they don’t begin with, “A man walked into a bar with a duck on his head —

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  7. I guess I cannot zoom in, and focus on the task at hand, so to speak 😛 Brief moments are good, but they easily can get ruined by placing them in context; do I want an ongoing relationship? No. So, do I over-think? Yeah, probably 😀

    That said, 20 years is a significant enough experience gap to make anyone raise an eyebrow 😀

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    1. …20 years is a significant enough experience gap to make anyone raise an eyebrow” – And by “anyone,” do you mean anyone outside of the two involved? Because if you do, perhaps your concern for the opinions of others is blocking your path to what might be some fulfilling experiences – just sayin’ think about it —

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