Now I've always considered myself a funky kinda chappie, not exactly mutton dressed as lamb, but I feel myself young for my age - casting derisory glances at those other, prematurely wrinkled (not clued-in oldies) who, the first second after their thirtieth-fifth birthday, seem to automatically develop Chino endowed legs, stripy shirts, and a disdainful attitude for anything that can't be traced to their teens.
No, no, no - that's not me, I moved with the trends, I still read comics, have a healthy penchant for all things not serious, religiously do gigs, and I fully intend to be bogged to the waist in festival mud for the foreseeable and extendable future. But today, whilst scratching my speckled grey spiky top (a left over from my own - very punk - teens) pondering over things not so ponder-able, suddenly, like a smack up the face with a frying-pan, it dawned on me that my daughter was but a smattering of months away from being 21.
Now, for many, this mightn't seem like such a big deal but, for me, it comes with the terrifying possibility that - if my baby girl has become a full out, bone fide adult - then I must be fast approaching the old fart stage of life, just a short skip (or hobble) away from pulling my trouser-belt up above my belly-line, giving out about everything and the weather, mostly the weather - oh, and the government - along with developing an unnatural hankering for soup.
But I shall resist. In the words of Independence Day, I shall not go quietly into the night - I will fight the good fight, reaffirm 50 as the new 40 - and then 60, when that day comes around. So come join me, all my fellow approaching-50-somethings, and help prove that a 21 year old daughter or son only means the cusp of adventures new.
Or, at least, maybe, we can have a grand ould time deluding ourselves.
ON ... my movie of the week:
Goodfellas - the 'How am I funny' scene with Joe Pesci and Ray Liotta - if it don't make you squirm, then you have a heart - or cahonies - of stone.
ON ... my album of the week:
Demon Days - Gorillaz. Damon Albarn is a genius, and this album - along with all his Gorillaz stuff - a masterpiece.
ON ... my book of the week:
The City and The City - China Mieville. What can I say ... just read it?
Martin Treanor
Author: The Silver Mist
More information about the Martin and his novels can be found on his website: www.MartinTreanor.Com.
The Silver Mist is available - in paperback and Kindle/eBook format - via both UK and US Amazons, Barnes & Noble, Borders, itunes, Bookiejar, Waterstone's, John Smith's Bookshops, WH Smith's, and all good high street and online stores.