Apparently, I’m old. This comes as something of a shock to me because I still feel 16. Being old and partially senile, awareness of my problem settled slowly. It began last week when I played chase with a group of under-10-year-olds. One of them said, “You’re pretty fast for an old lady.” I laughed—ah, the innocent remarks of youth. Then, just today, I saw an ad that sent me into fits of depression. An ad for a movie. A movie I consider to be one of the quintessential, age-defining movies of my generation. You know the one. Matthew Broderick plays a genius lurking inside a strapping 20-something body. Wow. Talk about pre-teen fantasies.
So, imagine my shock when the ad comes on and says, no kidding, that there will be a celebration to commemorate the 25th anniversary of War Games. 25!!!! That’s so old! That’s pre-digital, back when PacMan had kick-butt graphics and people still said things like “kick-butt”. OHMYGOSH!! Not only do they play Billy Idol on the “Oldies but Goodies” station, but now I have to endure watching my movie remade by stupid kids who won’t even appreciate what a cool thing Matthew did by subverting an entire governmental super-secret, top-officials-only computer.
And that’s how I know I’m old. It’s one thing to fall in love with a movie on American Movie Classics; it’s quite another to remember watching it in the theater. Now I know why Rod Stewart begged us to stay “Forever Young” and why the song made me want to gag a maggot. Besides the fact that a mostly-gay 80 year old man had chicks my age dancing around him, he piggy-backed on Alphaville’s most righteous tune by the same name and proved himself a total lame-o.
Anyway, point is, I have crossed over to the “remember when” side and I find it a scary, scary place indeed.