Friday, June 1, 2012

Losing My Edge, the Kids Are Coming Up From Behind by Alex Snider

I was riding home from a conference last night at around 11 and had to ring my bell 8 or 9 times at a group of 17-18 year olds who were wandering, drinking on the road to get out of my way. One of them made fun of my helmet and t-shirt that had 'volunteer' emblazoned on the back. At first I wished I always rode with a giant bull whip so I could go all Indiana Jones on people who said/did things that stuck in my craw but that would be inconvenient and illegal. Then I wished I had said something to the tune of "whatever, I can still bring the party. Hard" or "my closet is full of leopard print" or just screamed "you don't know me". But any of those would have only been terrible and would not have convinced anyone of my coolness. I probably would have rode into the curb if I said anything. So instead, I'm just resigning myself to my new status in the world: yeah, I can (probably) still chug a beer but I also wear a helmet and care about things like volunteering for the TRC.

For instance I need to accept that I will never reap the same kind of revenge on my young buck neighbours who come home, slamming the fuck out of all the doors at 4am. When we joked about doing it back at them one night we decided against it because a) high road and b) it was only 1am. (I did ask them not to slam the doors and they have gotten better. Respect.)

This is who I am now. Ain't no shame. I feel you, James Murphy.

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