Sometimes I Ramble (And Interview God)

I was at a party on Saturday for a 21 year old (but I didn't know that until I got there!). Invited by a 27 year old, I stood in the corner with my 32 year old friend talking to 27, 27, 23, 19 year olds. I definitely felt like (one of) the old dudes in the room. I certainly wasn't the oldest guy there, but the I got the old "I'm one of 4 people in this room who could grow a beard if I cared to" vibe.

Am I old? Am I old-ish? Old-like? I fucking don't know. When I was 25 I went to my film school to pitch some ideas to an agent; when I was sitting in a communal area waiting to be let in, I found myself in a conversation with a bunch of 21 year olds. Mumbling "old" they began to speak to me:

"How old are you?" she muttered. Black hipster with blue eyeshadow. Didn't quite make sense to me.
"25" I said.
"HOLY SHIT THAT'S OLD!" she exclaimed!
"You'll be there soon" I said.

Now that I'm 27, 25 doesn't seem that old, but 27 does. Actually when I was 25, 25 seemed old. So, I guess the question is, am I always going to feel old from here on out? I fucking remember the 80s! I'm old enough to have appreciated Vanilla Ice in a non-Ironic way. WTF!

What is old? I don't know. Isn't it comparative? There's really only one person who can answer that question: God.

So, I sat down with him and we had a nice long talk. I attempted to transcribe it, but God speaks too freaking fast that it was difficult to write down EVERYTHING he said. I think I got most of it:

Me: God! There you are.
God: First off, don't call me God. God was my father's name. Just called me " ".
Me: Ok, " ", here's my question: is 27 old?
He pauses. Pauses in such a way that he WANTS me to think that he is THINKING. He needs me to believe that there's something going on in that magnificent head of his. Shrugging for effect, he says:
God: Matt, Matt, Matt...27 is fucking old.
Me: Really?
God: Yeah.
Me: But you're like 1 billion years old.
God: But I'm God...you're just a dude. What, do you live like 80 years? 81 if you're lucky. Basically you're born old. There's just not enough time for everything...
Me: True.
God: Speaking of that, how much time did you spend googling "download free porn" today?
Me: Like maybe 5 hours.
God: Less porn googling, more living your life.
Me: How about "facebooking"? Is that an OK waste of time?
God: Wait, you're on Facebook? You didn't add me.
Me: Uhm, I don't think you're in my email contacts.
God: You're going down, Jewface.

It kinda goes on from there. God ended up saying "I can't believe you're writing this at 2:28 am when you have other perfectly interesting things to do", but there you go. After the interview God turned into a halibut and began to hit me with himself, proclaiming "I am not a fish"...it was a little strange and it seemed as if he might be enjoying slapping the crap out of me.

Lesson learned? Life is short. I remember when I was in 8th grade, my science teacher spoke of our time on earth:

"You think that we're here for a long time? Our life is as minuscule as an ant's fart in the Amazon". Yes, that insightful tidbit of knowledge has stuck with me for...15 years.

His name was Constantine Constance. There's a fucking name.

I guess everything is relative; including age.