How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?

It's funny, but when you finally meet yourself at say, the age of 35 or so, you realize that the vision of the thirties as being old that you had at twenty something is a complete joke.

I've always found it fascinating, the sort of contempt that the average twenty something has for anyone whose age falls in a decade later than theirs. How they believe that everything sags, falls apart, that somehow a person of that age has no ideals, nothing to contribute but a desperate yearning to be twenty something again. It sometimes seems like every 20-29 year old believes they exist in this special vacuum of non-agers, that they and only they will never become older, never have to be looked upon as "tired, worn-out, desperate...".

I know I used to feel that way. What a shock then, to become 30 and realize that I did not feel any different, that there was no moment where I suddenly had to accept that I was old, less attractive, getting wrinkled, gaining weight, longing for youth. It didn't happen. The wrinkles didn't come, I didn't run out and buy a minivan. The desperate air of the aged didn't fall upon me. What did happen is a looking back on my own twenties as a time of insecurity, a time when everything hinged on appearance and staying power, parties and socializing. To think about it too hard reveals little of substance.

I kind of like the thirties. Many of us still have some of the look of youth (at least if we didn't take the twenties for granted), but a little more substance than most twenty somethings. A little more experience, a little more to say, maybe even more guts to be real.

Sometimes, anyway.