Comfort food gone bad.

Some people’s comfort food is a big bowl of ice cream while watching old timey movies on the TV. Other people rely on a large fries from McDonald’s and a drive past their old flame’s house to calm ‘em down. Recently VH1 Classics has been my comfort food since I can always rely on there being something playing within the next five minutes that will be familiar and recall a simpler time.

Last night, however, some mental calculations sort of destroyed the confort I had been deriving from watching these old music videos. I was watching The Alternative, which is basically 120 Minutes retro-style, when the video for Iggy Pop’s “Candy” came on. I though about how the first time I saw this video I thought it was kind of cool that the cute girl (who was hardly a girl but I had no perspective when it came to musician’s ages) was teamed up with Iggy Pop. How cool was that? It had to be 1990 or 1991 so that was…oh, about fifteen years ago. I kind of sat up and I could feel the blood draining from my face. Fifteen years ago? I thought. Just to get a grip I thought I might gain a foothold on reality by figuring out what fifteen years before the video’s release was. Maybe that would help me feel better? Nope. Because fifteen years before that was 19-fricking-75.

And that’s when I realized I really am not getting any younger. I’m still hip. I'm still with it. I still have friends that are a decade younger than me and I don’t really give it a second thought. I still look good in leather. But the clock is ticking. How much longer do I have before I’m that weird old guy who just won’t let go? I have friends that are still rock and/or rollers in their mid-40s that still pull it off but those friends are very few and far between. The worst part is I certainly don’t feel as if I’m getting any older. Aside from some squishiness around the middle I still feel a lot like that kid, more or less albeit a little mellower and a lot more responsible, that watched that Iggy Pop video in his dorm room fifteen years ago.

Is this anxiety tied into my birthday next week? I doubt it, since birthdays have never freaked me out. Then again getting older never freaked me out wither but apparently I am susceptible to the occasional deep shudder when contemplating my later years. So I’m human after all! Go figure.
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Weekend round-up.

Batman Begins was excellent. Possibly the best comic book movie ever. Spider-man and The X-Men were really really good. Sin City was spot on. But Batman Begins just captured the essence of the source material perfectly. Photogal dug it too and no9w she’s hungry for the impending sequels. Maybe Ray Liotta can play The Joker this time!

The next evening found me enjoying the symphony in Millennium Park with some friends – another sure sign of impending decrepitude! – and then I caught some fine local music before meeting my little brother at Cans. Yes, Cans. It blew. I made sure everything I ordered came in a bottle so I wouldn't be confused with the "slumming" yuppies. The only upswing was giving my brother a pep talk and demonstration on how to approach people he did know and then getting satisfaction while chatting up some cute girl. I mean c'mon, what girl wouldn't want to be chatted up by a cute young lawyer? Duh. So go little brother! For my part I tolerated the crowd and had by that point drank enough that the clientele couldn’t really bother me.

Yesterday was blissfully spent on the couch with a pile of DVDs, some salt and black pepper kettle crisps and a whole bunch of Gatorade. Pretty much a perfect Sunday. Aaaaah.