The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘time’

The Sliding Scale of Old

Recently I was reading about things that are happening from 12 to 24 months when I read something crazy in the book. Apparently kids don’t fully grasp the concepts of yesterday and tomorrow until age six! SIX! Isn’t that nuts! That means for six years of your life you were running around and you were confined to now or not now.

At age two kids do get yesterday and tomorrow on some scale. For example, if you had a bath yesterday and ice cream two weeks ago they may as well have happened in the same otherworldly concept of ‘yesterday.’ Because it’s all just past.

When talking to this toddler aged set about time I read a suggestion that you make it more relatable by saying things in their terms. ‘Christmas is 300 bedtimes away.’ (Or whatever it is.) Of course that wouldn’t float because 300 is just some random set of words. But if you said you’ll go to bed tonight, and then you’ll go to bed one more night, and then it’s Christmas! Then a kid can sort of get on board with that.

assorted silver colored pocket watch lot selective focus photo

Photo by Giallo on

My wife and sister both just had their birthdays which also brought up conversations of time. My sister’s age to me feels so GROWN UP even though I am just 3.5 years younger than her. But then I think about my age and my gut reaction is usually to think, ‘oh no, I’m old!’ but my rational mind has already begun to undo my youth and construct new concepts around ‘old.’ You see … it’s a sliding scale.

When you’re young enough someone just one year older than you is ‘old.’ As you get older, maybe you’re a freshman in high school and the seniors seem ‘old.’ Keep getting older, say you’re thirty, and now you really have to approach this logically. Thirty approached AWFULLY fast, you think to yourself, so I can’t call forty old because I’ll be there in no time and really … it’s not old. How about fifty? (See, your brain doesn’t even let you increment in small numbers any more! Going up by tens!) I mean … fifty does seem kinda old but … I don’t know … retirement isn’t til 65 (I hope) so maybe 65 is old? Is 65 old?

It gets confusing negotiating with yourself to not feel ‘old’.

All of this sums up to one important conclusion. Self, you’re old. So buckle up, oldie, because you’ll only get older and older until (hopefully) you reach ancient status, and then if you’re lucky, decrepit. Then, at that age, 1 year will equal 1 minute in toddler time, or something along those lines. It’s a complex formula and I forgot it because, you guessed it, old age.

Quick Hits from D.C.

Hello friends … how are ye? I’m in the D.C. area for a little trip.


I’ll throw out a statement my cousin, and sometime commenter, made yesterday:

He was talking about seeing a beautiful woman and the thoughts that follow

  • She’s probably a jerk because she’s so beautiful
  • She’s probably too good to talk to him
  • “Or three, I’m an idiot because neither of those first things are true but I’m too afraid to go talk to her.”

I won’t say that last one is a direct quote because I didn’t write it down then, but I thought that was pretty brilliant from ol’ cousin G.


I also got to meet up with a friend of mine I haven’t seen since high school. I had bragged somewhat about meeting up with her because she’s a writer for a very well known and good magazine … Time.

Yeah. That’s right. I know a real writer.

She called me a tramp many times. This is because, at dinner one night, we (along with friends of hers) talked about if a kiss at the end of a good first date is expected. I said yes. She said no. Therefore, I was a tramp. So you’ve heard it here first, folks, Time magazine thinks I’m a tramp.


Last night I went to a coffee shop mainly to check emails. I noticed a table right by me with two girls, one of them on her laptop. She was looking at okcupid and plentyoffish, two dating websites. She was reading some messages to her friend, and they were laughing about guys on that site.

Sure it could be perceived as mean, but I’d challenge you to be on one of those sites and NOT do that sometimes.

One of the messages the girl had gotten involved the guy telling her she was lucky to have received a message from him, that it was a great experience. I thought that was pretty good.

I actually ended up talking to them about the sites and how they enjoy them. One of the girls told me the other girl was trying to date the village people – a biker, a cop, an Indian chief, a … whatever the rest are. This was a joke goal, but also pretty fantastic.

Girl 1: Where will we find a cowboy?
Girl 2: Ok well it doesn’t have to be a cowboy.
Girl 1: Yeah, it could just be like a guy from Texas.
Girl 2: Yeah. He’d have to wear a cowboy hat though.
Girl 1: Ok so a guy from Texas.
(Me sitting there, visiting from Texas.)

The fact that I went up and talked to these two was enough bold, outgoing-ness for one day. I wasn’t about to say, “ya’ll lookin’ for a Texan? Aw now, look no futha’.” Except wait, I’m awkward.

Me: I’m actually visiting here from Houston.
Girl 1: Perfect! You two can date!
(Girl 2 probably scared.)
Me: Well I’m not FROM Texas. You need one of my co-workers with a real thick drawl.
Girl 1: Oh ok.
(Unsure where to go from there … a little awkward silence … I made fun of Texas … then the shop owner says ok get out. It was closing time.)

Congratulations to me.

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