wedding road trip

On Being Old

Last week I went out to see a concert and discovered that I’m old. And I’m OK with it.

The catalyst for this shocking discovery was that the headlining band didn’t come on until 12:15 AM. Once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away, that was when I started the night. Now that’s when I want to be in bed, fast asleep. (Mercifully, the band – a Danish funk/R&B outfit called Asteroid Galaxy Tour – was quite good.) A mere decade ago, it felt edgy and illicit to stay in a bar until 4 AM. Now, edgy means sleeping in past 9. Pretty soon I’ll be eating raisin bran and watching Matlock and talking about when a gallon of gas cost $2.

The great part is that this evolution takes away one of my big fears around marriage. Generally, I had the impression that a wedding was also a funeral for your social life. Everything you did from then on had to be a wholesome, bland activity, acceptable to your party-adverse spouse. You would be doomed to gamely feigning excitement about microwaved leftovers followed by an evening of playing Scrabble, while your friends rage at a nightclub and have the greatest time ever known.

However…

• Jaime is fun – much more so than me, in fact,
• I no longer equate alcohol with automatic entertainment, because it can also lead to narcolepsy and hangovers.
• I don’t really want to rage until 2 AM because I actually like walking the streets of San Francisco before the hipsters get up.
• I know more words than dance moves.

I know that after the wedding, Jaime and I will still go to concerts, clubs, and parties. But I also know that some Saturday nights I’ll be pulling out the Scrabble board and trying to score a bingo with M-A-T-L-O-C-K.