Last night, Fella and I watched “Hilarious” by Louis C.K. I could tell it was recent because of the jokes, but a little light came on as he repeated over and again about how he’s 41. (The thing was filmed in 2010, LCK was born in 1967 according to IMDb)
I thought, “Hum. I think he’s around the same age as Tina Fey.” She’s a 1970 kid.
Then I thought, “Penelope’s in her early 40s, too!”
So all my favorite public figures, with whom I most identify, and whose success I most aspire to emulate, are in their early-to-mid 40s (Penelope was born in 66, so that makes her 45 for some part of this year).
I think the reason I love these three is because they all have kids my kid’s age, and their public life is informed by that. Also, they’re all funny/self-deprecating, smart, and embrace their natural appearance, keeping the plastic parts to a minimum.
So I’m in my early 30s, and the three people I most covet a lunch date with are at least 10 years older. What does that mean?
I have some ideas.
1. Either I am less prone to aborting unwanted fetuses, or worse at birth control than they are.
2. I’m reversing that 30 is the new 20 thing–30 is the new 40.
3. Tina, Louis, and Penelope are all extremely immature, or, spending ALL of one’s 20s and part of one’s 30s not being a parent is awesome for your soul.
4. My soul is ahead of its time.
5. I should have been a teenager, not a child, during the 80s. I could’ve been awkward, acned, and rapaciously horny at the same time I wore pink spandex pants with an oversized glitter kitty t-shirt.