You may think you’re atemporal. And when I say “you” I mean “I”.
I realized I do as my father does. When I talk about someone ten years older or five years younger than me, I call them boys; over this age they are men and under it they are kids. Well, my father’s lower limit has obviously become wider.
The thing is that yesterday I went out at night in Vilafranca, which I hadn’t done for a long time. In fact, I wasn’t supposed to be there, but I have this tendency to change plans and it is directly proportional to the time the activity has been planned for.
I met a friend with the intention to go to the arcs music club, but it was too soon and there was nobody inside. It came to our minds that this weekend the May Festival was held and we headed to the sports centre. The picture there was not better indeed: some fairground attraction working at half occupancy and some groups of dressed up, well-combed kids (for they were six or seven years younger than us) in front of the hotdogs trolleys.
At last, we entered the Casino (by arcs, let’s not forget this ― we would spend our money either in a place or the other). During the first hour there was nobody there, but then kids (you know) started showing up. Some boy would enter eventually, but most of the people were kids. It is not like we cared. We had music, we had enough dance floor and we were eager to dance.
We were partying normally, as always (and that was the mistake). Some wise words came out from my friend’s mouth:
― Do you remember when we were younger and used to see the old ones overdancing on the dance floor?
We scanned the disco and noticed we are starting to leave behind the age average. We could have had a breakdown that very moment. Instead of this, we went on dancing at will. I realized that aging up doesn’t mean dancing the old-fashioned way while the young ones look at you smiling, but knowing how to have fun when you want to (the old-fashioned way while the young ones look at you smiling).