Where Did the Time Go?

sandy-dancing
Originally uploaded by Cool Auntie.

This is Sandy. She cuts my hair, and she does a fabulous job, I might add. Sandy owns a salon in Detroit called Barberella. All the hipsters get their hair cut there. When I lived in New York, I'd fly to Detroit just for a haircut. I'm in Cleveland at the moment, and I recently rode the dog for a haircut...

Sandy is beautiful and fabulous and has a handsome husband and a loving, big dog. She, like a good beauty technician, will make you feel good as well as look good.

Sandy told me the last time I was in her chair that she thought I was younger than she was. I am more than 10 years older than Sandy.

Yeah - that did make me feel good.

But it makes me ponder a whole other set of questions...

OK - I look young. I drink a gallon of water a day, stay out of the sun, and wear $100 moisturizer, but its more than that and the genetic crapshoot.

I behave like I'm 10 years younger than I am. I run around with silly people and do silly things. I stay out late at rock clubs and bars. In fact, this photo was taken after midnight at the Belmont Bar in Hamtramck, Detroit about a month ago. I think that my behavior helps define my putative "age."

However, the chronological reality is that this year, I will turn 47. Last time I looked, it was the 80s and I wasn't yet 30.

Last week, I was able to re-connect with three people I was very close to at the end of the 70s. We're about the same age. Back then, they were just guys in a band, and we were all just having a good time. Now they're all married. Two of them have kids that I know of. When I think of them, I am transported to being 22, 23 and 24 years old. I still think we are in our 20s.

We were so close that once you get in touch again, it seems all the years in between seem to vanish. However, more than two decades have passed. A lot has happened. The friend who brought us together died 15 years ago. Another friend who made all our hijinx possible died six months ago. Of course, these friends died young and probably preventably. It still does not take away the impact of looking at one's own finite existence.

Mortality is waving at us from a not too distant shore.

Its scary.