What am I, 37?
...yeah, I'm 37.
Shit, man.
Go back a generation. What had our parents done by their mid-to-late 30s? Probably had a few kids, bought a house, and maybe owned a Glen Campbell LP.*
The argument could be made, I suppose, that "things are different these days." More people than ever have post-secondary diplomas or degrees, and they're getting their careers underway (even broads!), and the nature of jobs in a post-union environment means less stability, yadda yadda. Add to it the price of houses in this city (!) and, well, let's just say I'm still renting.
Aside:
In conversation with someone recently, and jeez, I can't remember who, it came up that, since rents can only go up a small percentage each year, that gives you an incentive to stay in one spot and not bounce-around. I mean, hell, when I moved into my apartment in 2006, I thought the rent was a little pricey... but the dollar-value of it has stayed shockingly constant over the past almost-nine years while everything else has gone up, and this place is a god damn bargain now. It has two bedrooms, is way bigger than any sub-million-dollar condo around, huge west-facing windows with only trees across the road, and a charming horizontal crack about eight feet long about a foot below the crown moulding on the south wall of my living room. I'm genuinely curious as to why it's cracking, and how long it'll get. Stay tuned.
In conversation with someone recently, and jeez, I can't remember who, it came up that, since rents can only go up a small percentage each year, that gives you an incentive to stay in one spot and not bounce-around. I mean, hell, when I moved into my apartment in 2006, I thought the rent was a little pricey... but the dollar-value of it has stayed shockingly constant over the past almost-nine years while everything else has gone up, and this place is a god damn bargain now. It has two bedrooms, is way bigger than any sub-million-dollar condo around, huge west-facing windows with only trees across the road, and a charming horizontal crack about eight feet long about a foot below the crown moulding on the south wall of my living room. I'm genuinely curious as to why it's cracking, and how long it'll get. Stay tuned.
So, we end up pushing things back, and back, and back.
But, eventually, we're going to run into an inconvenient piece of biology: that is, the chicks, they can't have no babies no more when they're over about 40. And hey, it ain't no picnic for guys either; I don't want to be changing diapers at 50. Having kids is a young man's pursuit.
(Someone forgot to tell the late Tony Randall.)
Are we going to get a bunch of ultra-bummed-out women (and men too, let's face it) about a decade from now, all full of regret because they never settled down and started crapping-out some progeny? And, will today's teenagers learn from this possible-mistake and get busy earlier, or will they go down the same garden path?
Tough to say, really. But I have a feeling it's not going to be fun finding out.
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* I bought one at Kops on Bloor a couple of weeks ago for a quarter. Suck it, you old fogeys!
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