I had dinner with my BFF the other night, and we were talking once again, about how disconcerting it is to think about how our chronological age does not match our mental age. Mental age being how old we think we are, which we both still think is about 25. Having known each other since we were 12 years old, we are able to allow this myth of age to continue. We’re still listening to Eric Clapton, Mountain, Deep Purple and Bruce Springsteen and singing at the top of our lungs in the car when we’re alone. We’re still active and out there, albeit we’d rather be in pajamas at 7pm watching TV on the sofa then partying it up, but we can still rise to the occasion when necessary.
She said one of the things she thinks has changed with age is the amount of laughter we experience. I stopped and thought for a moment and realized she was right. Not laughing as in having a chuckle over something or finding something funny that you laugh out loud from, but really laughing, as in you can’t catch your breath hysterical, your eyes watering, and every time you attempt to pull it together you start all over. She and I have shared many of those types of laughs over the years, but I would agree that the uncontrollable laughter of youth seems to have dissipated, only happening infrequently. Is it that there is less to laugh about as we grow older? Or that everything when one is young seems funny or we are better able to find humor in any given situation? Is life less funny because we have lived through more and experienced the seriousness of life which changes our perspective? Every now and then we revert to the 15 year olds we once were, finding humor in something so nonsensical it sends us into spasms of laughter, the kind that you can only share with someone who understands everything without having to say a word, who you never have to hide anything from, who shares your soul.
Our Polaroid camera selfie, turning the camera around we thought was a genius move, and hysterically funny… who knew we were trendsetters back in 1983?