The blogging hour

It's been a long time since I've found myself sitting at a computer late at night with the silent hum of an internet connection filling the air. Perhaps it's merely the scent of spring in the air that's turned this young man's thoughts to blogging again, but more likely it's sheer opportunism. Hmm, young man. I'm hardly an old man, but I don't think I can in all honestly call myself a young man anymore. Note sure what that leaves me. A thirty something? Or just a man? The reason for these grown up thoughts? I found myself listening to a gaggle of young girls on a train earlier. I don't think I've ever felt an age gap so acutely. I wasn't deliberately eavesdropping, but I couldn't fully tune out their conversation. That said, what came as a surprise was just how little of it I could understand. They talked with acute rapidity in a vernacular that wasn't wholly familiar to me. I caught phrases here are there, sometimes a sentence, but oftentimes I was lucky if I could understand every other word. What I found remarkable was how easy it was to reduce to just noise. Normally it's virtually impossible to concentrate on someone's speech and not interpret it. It's not a conscious process and you can't not hear the words someone speaks. The noise emanating from these girls, however, seemed to be a curious exception. By closing my eyes and concentrating I found I could deliberately reduce it to a meaningless drone, much like the wah-wah-wahing of Charlie Brown's unseen teacher. Only several octaves higher. Possibly more.

Hmm, I still don't like the idea that I'm getting old. I'll posit this alternative instead: My age has remained constant, but the young are getting younger.

I think I much prefer that explanation.