I had a “smack me up the side of my head” realization when I watched the finale of The Voice the other day. It came when one of my favorite yummy boys from back in the day – Peter Frampton – appeared on the show. I had not seen Peter for decades, but I remembered him well. Those golden curls, that unbuttoned shirt showing bare chest, and that wildly sexy vulnerable rock star look – yum, yum, triple yum! I was never much for the whole groupie phenomenon, but for Peter I would have comprised myself.
Given my obvious to-the-core-of-my-being appreciation of Peter I was ready with my napkin in hand (just in case spontaneous drooling occurred) to watch him sing. I was positively giddy. But then something odd happened, there was this older gentleman sitting there on the stool singing with a voice amazingly like Peter’s, but my Peter and his bare chest and golden locks were nowhere in sight.
And that was when it hit me like a ton of bricks – that older gentleman on the stool – my goodness, that is my Peter. I gasped audibly. How did this happen? When did this happen? Where are his golden locks? Why is he so…old? And that is when I had the “smack me up the side of my head” realization…that is when I thought to myself, “Holy crap I must be old too!”
Peter Frampton is now 62 years old. Let me clarify forthwith that I am not 62, but I am a few years in on the new forty now (which for the math challenged or incredibly polite equals 53); and, while I know I have aged over the years I did not have up to that point a full recognition of how much better others can recognize the fact that you are aging when they look at you, as opposed to when you look at yourself. UGGGHHH!!!!! I could have lived without this information!
Peter is still pretty darn cute for a man of his age, but he just isn’t the Peter imprinted on my brain (and his shirt was buttoned so I cannot offer commentary on his chest – drats!). It is a good thing that I realized this unpalatable truth – the fact that I am aging. After seeing Peter I recognize that everyone else realizes I am aging, even if I have been bordering on obliviousness about it. Such is life I guess. I’ll just have to avoid looking up my old rock star heart throbs from back in the day and I’ll also have to avoid the mirror – both will undoubtedly cement this new thing I have come to realize…my goodness I am getting old.
Day one thousand two hundred and sixty-two of the new forty – obla di obla da