Old, Big, Inked and Grumpy

I hate it when my life reflects my state of mind. Because usually I'm in a fairly foul mood.

But today got sort of weird on me, not in a bad way, but in ways that bring out what is often called a rueful smile.

To wit:

This month I turned 42. I am officially old enough to be of parental age to my students. And I try, albeit poorly at times, to move into middle age with a modicum of maturity.

40 is not the new 20. 40 is 40. Otherwise, I want my sh*tty math grades retroactively improved.

When, dear Lord, will those f@#$ing Baby Boomers acqueisce to being the Granny Groaners?

I really do try to act my age in some ways, especially in, uh, inter-gender matters.

It recently occurred to me that looking at women half my age, while not strictly immoral (i.e. illegal), is still... creepy. A friend calls it Dirty Old Man Syndrome.

I feel guilty sometimes. Okay, a lot of the time. I spent a lot of years looking at women. I got older. Never broke the habit. Now it's gross. Mea culpa.

Don't get me wrong; I am not leering, nor hollering at them. It's just that I find myself noticing women of a certain age, and now I notice myself feeling bad for doing so.

Besides, it's a less than pointless endeavor. And it's yucky. And I don't need to conflate students with women; I find it... professionally useful to not think of 20-year olds as fully female.

So I need to stop looking at them.

Luckily for me, I have always appreciated women more than girls. As titillating (!) as it may be to look at girls, it pales in comparison to looking at women.

I again concede: thinking lustful thoughts of women who also happen to be holding babies or otherwise involved with baby apparatus (that's not a euphemism) might be immoral, but for a different reason. Especially when they're with their husbands.

Philandering and pedophilia have a lot of daylight between them on the Morality Scale. And it's not like Mommy never... you know.

Yes, I do look at (and have sweaty inappropriate thoughts about) women. Often while their husbands are next to them.

So I admit, that's not a great way to act.

But it's still better than trying out for the role of Chester the Molester.

I'm just grateful that I am more attracted to women closer to my own age than that of my (hypothetical) children.

I think women look great with 'character lines' (other women get wrinkles; your wife/girlfriend gets 'character lines'). I have them. Perfect figures? I don't have one. So why expect one.

Besides, 'perfect' is a very culturally relative term.

I think women are perfectly beautiful when they age.

Visible signs of aging frequently make me feel... agitated. It's hot.

I am sexually attracted to women older than 29. That doesn't make me a bad person.

It is, I feel, the honorable, fair, decent thing to do.

I am, after all, in my 40s.

Having never gotten married and had children in my 20s, it would be, I think, unfair to marry a woman in HER 20s and have children.

So in some ways I feel I am at least acting appropriately.

Okay, I think inappropriate thoughts, but I don't have cable, so indulge me this diversion...

I still fail miserably in the wardrobe department as far as acting my age. That's partially because I have difficulty finding clothes that fit me. Luckily for me, I am now in a position to have them made.

I am currently having a silk suit made for me that will look, to me, quite stylish.

But that's because I chose the fabric for its resemblance to the sharkskin material once favored by Mafiosi and other gangsters, the stuff that Billy Crystal compares to chrome in Analyze This.

Suit: Mature. Style: Not.

But then again, a 6'4" 260# guy with a mean look on his face in a gangster suit doesn't get a lot of direct criticism.

So f@#$ 'em.

I wear a lot of shorts and t-shirts, especially in summer. Wintertime I do a little better, but not much.

I like my black leather jacket.

And it fits me.

F@#$ off.

But I really am trying to do a little better. Not because I look like an outdated college student (although that's what profs are), and not because I'm a prof, but because I'm a middle aged man and considering how much education I have and the salary I get, I ought to start dressing a little better.

Though being slovenly has its benefits.

Weaving together the two points above, I was walking to the KCR station today. Oddly for mid-week, the coin-sticker brigades were out. You know, you put a coin in their bag, they put a sticker on you to prevent their colleagues from further solicitation.

I used to find that on early Saturday mornings, I would always end up donating to grannies, but after breakfast, the young women seemed to have taken over. I used to 'treat' myself to donating to the pretty ones, but soon was overwhelmed by a creeping guilt that springs both from the acrid whiff of pedophilia (given the ages) and the idea of, to some extent, sexualizing charity. So I stopped doing that and now just give the $ to whoever I get to first.

So it was odd this AM that as I stood in front of a young MAN, trying to get the coins out of my pocket while leaving my mobile intact, that I was suddenly surrounded by three giggling girls who seemed quite interested in the tattoos that stuck out the bottom of my t-shirt sleeves. I left with five stickers plastered on me. I can't say it wasn't nice to be treated that way, but it did make me feel... rueful.

It's kind of like that one relative who always shows up late at family dinners bringing something really good to eat, but you ate a long time ago and if you eat that stuff now, you'll regret it and look like a pig in front of everyone.

Still, it was nice to be giggled about.

I was in the KCR because I had to go to Mongkok MTR to go to DHL.

Really. I'm not trying to be funny. Or acronymious...

While standing at the counter, I noticed a large bunch of schoolkids in matching t-shirts moving through the station. I was in the midst of talking to the DHL people when I felt someone next to me. I mean in contact with me.

As crowded as Hong Kong is, and as aggravating as foot traffic can be (more later), people usually don't touchme.

And in general, in anyplace, people don't touch me.

Not only that, the contact continued. I mean, it's a second or two, but count that in your head, and ask if you want a stranger touching you that long. As I started to turn my head, a flash went off. As my head turned around, I saw a young woman rejoin a group of friends, one of whom was holding a camera. They were giggling.

Some random schoolgirl took a picture with my back.

It reminds me of the time in Ocean Park, in line for the cable car, when these people asked to take a picture with me. "F@#$ the pandas, look at that overgrowngweilo. Let's ask for a picture..."

These girls all ran off before I could get any clarification. Which is fine.

I'm almost used to being a sideshow of photo-op proportion.

It can be bothersome at times, though. The other day a friend said "You never look up when you walk, you always look at the street."

I explained that I have to. If I look up, all of you vanish from my peripheral vision. And since pedestrian endeavors in Hong Kong are like a demolition derby with straight black hair, I constantly have to watch out for people cutting in front of me.

Because if I don't, I will flatten them. I weigh three times what they do.

At leastthree times.

That's just physics.

Now, it doesn't help that people walk with the same politeness that they insult your mother with.

But I'm not allowed to act as they do. Because if I did, I would constantly knock people out of the way.

So I am constantly giving way, or dropping a shoulder, or stopping short.

Well, mostof the time.

I do occasionally walk off the train through the people trying to enter (and who are not letting passengers exit first); I call it Bowling for Commuters.

My favorite is when they give me the hairy eyeball for doing these things.

You know, for acting just like they do.

I want to get a t-shirt that says Caution: Stay Clear in Chinese. And then just walk the way I want to. It's not like they don't seeme.

A commentator once said that Shaquille O'Neal actually plays basketball much more gently than we know. If Shaq wanted to, he could simply move people out of the paint. I think I know what he means.

So it ought not surprise me that I frequently terrify people when I walk briskly up to them.

Especially women.

So maybe that's why I like it when young girls giggle. It's nice to not be feared sometimes.

But you know what's better than that? When little kids smile. They don't do it often, so its a real treat.

Many of them are terrified of me. But usually if I say "Don't be scared" in Cantonese, they relax.

When grownups stare with the same uncertainty, I say "Don't worry, I ate."

F@#$ 'em.

DISCLAIMER: I realize I have in some way confessed to a lot of sexist, chauvinistic behavīor. But at least I admit it, and I'm not proud of it and I don't think it's okay and I do think it's undignified and I realize I shouldn't objectify women and I'm trying not to. As pathetic as you may think I am, trust me, I think I'm worse.

But is it okay if I enjoy being giggled about? Please???