So last night I went to watch a DJ set some lads called Public Order and very good they were. There were other adults there of my age some older some a bit younger. Loads of kids ranging from 18 to 20ish. I was the only adult interested in the music which is ok, I'm not quite ready for Phil Collins yet.
So I think I'm pretty cool and "down with the kids" but also realise that they don't see me in that way and it's best to watch at the back and never ever dance.
I'm having a conversation with my oldest friends and one of them brings up a book he's reading Bukowski Ham on Rye, I mention that I'm reading it (again) myself and the little ****er looks at me like I have 2 heads, I couldn't possibly be into something cool like Bukowski.
Getting old is just ****, no matter what you have done or what you're into younger people just think you're old and crap.
So a few weeks ago my youngest pipes up that he's faster than me, I tell him that he's not and that I could do his older brother in a race until he was 14 (the youngest is 11), he laughs and says it wouldn't be a contest, over the coming weeks he's on at me to race him until last night after I've been to a DJ set, I've had a few beers and young people are pissing me off and the whole thing just comes to a head.
We set a marker to run to and I'm going to teach him a lesson that his old dad still has it in him to destroy his youngest in a short sprint, I can taste the glory, this little **** had bitten off more than he can chew.
Off we go and he's matching me, we get close to the end and I just sense that he's going to nick it, I'm not concentrating and glancing at him instead of the goal, my mind wants my legs to go faster but they won't listen, frustration, lack of focus and the realisation that he's going to win! My balance goes I fall forward, there's no fighting this, I'm going down. I hit the tarmac and slide a bit. I bounce up praying that Mrs luv wasn't recording it, I get lucky. My knee is a mess, bloody and swollen, my right arm grazed from elbow to hand, both hands are sore from the fall. The neighbour asks worriedly if I'm ok and says, "it was almost as if you were young again for a moment there", I laugh and make out like it was nothing and casually go inside the house.
I get a beer from the fridge and sit on the sofa, my arm stings but not as much as my pride.