Welcome to 360 Months

This is a space for sharing experiences and feelings around turning 30. From people who are approaching this milestone with anticipation and uncertainty to those who have recently passed the 3 decade mark with a warm embrace, 360 Months is an opportunity to challenge dominant social expectations of this marker of adulthood. It is also a chance to ignite new conversations amongst peers in the struggle to make sense of, and even celebrate, growing older.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Regime Change and Rodent Control: Stephen Perry

If I had gone to my 10 year high school reunion, Steve Perry would have been one of the few people there—and I know he was there because of documentation on the Internets—that I would have been truly happy to see. I think I will always associate Steve as the singer and guitarist of Epinephrine, who played a couple shows with my band. He was one of those creative geniuses I knew would do something interesting after graduation. Since then, our paths have crossed here and there including a one year overlap in Northampton, MA. Maybe we’ll catch up again at our 20 year—I hope it happens sooner.
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I started telling people I was thirty a couple of months before my birthday arrived on February 11th of this year (2011, Jesus, it sounds like the future). In a store, if something cost $9.95, you might as well say, "Hey it's 10 bucks," or something like that, right (even though it'll end up being like, $10.89 after tax, but whatever)? As I sit here and write this, I've been 30 years old for a month and a half (30 years plus tax), and I know not much has changed. 2/11/11 was just another day; just another flip of the Far Side calendar that sits above the toilet.
 
I have a cat now. He was rescued by a friend of mine, and me and my roommates took him in. He is a good cat, with big paws, the kind that Hemingway bred on Key West. Once there were rats in my apartment, giant subway rats, big enough to trade their pelts; a dozen of them could fill in for a sled dog team. When I was 29, I would catch them with glue traps (2 of the big traps, duct taped together--yeah, giant rats). I would catch them in these traps, and I would murder them with a cast iron skillet. Now I am 30 and I don't kill anymore. I have a cat to do the dirty work.  

Hosni Mubarak and I are forever linked. He fled Egypt on my birthday. He had ruled Egypt for 30 years. I have ruled the equally corrupt nation of myself for 30 years plus, though I fear the big pawed cat may have plans to oust me (with CIA backing, no doubt). If Gadaffi goes soon, I will be 12 years from sliding into second place behind Castro. Yes, I think about my age as it relates to the years that dictators have ruled their respective countries. If there's something wrong with that, I'm not ready to hear it. Get back to me in a Charles Taylor (6 years).

I will write forever if I get into politics, but I do have to remark on the current wave of protests and regime change across the Middle East. I remember watching the Iron Curtain fall across Eastern Europe as a child. Not to count the chickens before they hatch, but assuming Tunisia, Egypt (and hopefully Libya) become actual democracies, and a handful of other nations (Yemen, Jordan, Syria, etc.) enact real, meaningful reforms...I mean, just stop and think about that. In our 30 years on this planet, more humans have gained first generation human rights, than at any other time in history.

Turning 30 can highlight both the good and bad aspects of your life, which is unfair, because it's truly just another day. Honestly, I've tried not to think about it, and just focus on things that need improvement regardless of my age...Things like rodent control and democracy.

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