Our culture is obsessed with age, and I’m beyond sick of it.
I’m irrationally angry with people who judge others by the numbers on their birth certificate. With people who hide their age or lie about their age. I’m disgusted by the marketing and demographics research that is pivoting on what we should want based on age, and how to play to our age-related insecurities to get our money.
I want to harm, just a bit, those who say things like “The big three-oh” or “over the hill.”
Age is a mythology. Numbers are misleading and indicative of very little. Why? Because the amount and quality of living poured into each day, each month, and each year is wildly different for each person.
A man whose parents die in his teen years is substantially older once he gets to college than most boys who’ve been out of college for years.
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