Gettin' Old, Part 1

2010 - 04

"Oh mercy mercy me,
Things ain't what they used to be..."
Marvin Gaye

How do you know when you're getting old?

When you start doing campus tours...for your kid.

The Wife and I took our daughter around to a few area universities last week. Ryerson, York and U of Toronto, Scarborough (UTSC). She's looking to get into Journalism, which is very exciting for me, the frustrated writer of the family.

But this is my little girl...wasn't she just a baby I could rock to sleep with one arm only a couple of years ago? Where has the time gone?

And when we're walking around the campuses, while I'm being blown away at what's at the disposal of an 18-year-old now for learning, I'm also seeing signs that some things never change. The papers tacked and taped up everywhere offering up parties. The people yelling out of residence windows at any group of people they deem "not of the university as yet". What do they yell? "Ryerson fuckin' ROCKS! YEEEEEOOOOOOO!" School spirit is alive and well in Toronto.

But perhaps the most disturbing sign is the guys walking on campus checking out my daughter. I know what's going through their heads. "Fresh meat." Because that's exactly what I did at the same age. I wasn't necessarily that guy yelling out the window, but I was definitely looking for as much attention as I could gather at that age. Hell, I wore a fork in my jean jacket just for the comments. Yeah, I know. Don't judge.

But the other thing I experienced was the unexpected trip to three decades ago when a skinny kid getting ready to graduate Grade 13 (yes, back when there was a Grade 13 and none of this "victory lap" crap). Six-foot-three and most of my scrawny body weight coming from my zits and the big-ass auto-polarizing aviator-style glasses I wore...yes, I was a catch back then ladies...okay well, not so much.

But I definitely was a walking hard-on.

But enough of that. We did university tours for U of Toronto, McMaster in Hamilton, and both Wilfred Laurier and Waterloo in Kitchener. I can specifically remember being more interested in getting myself to a record store to pick up some LPs (again, yes, this was a long time ago). But I can still remember picking up both Harlequin's "Love Crimes" album (remember the song "Innocence" or "Thinking of You"?) and The Alan Parsons Project's "The Turn of a Friendly Card" (remember the song "Time" that seemed to be played at any funeral for any teen that died in the early Eighties?). Yeah, I was having a hell of a time focusing on what I wanted to do with my life.

My mother was going through a nasty divorce and my only serious thoughts were on making sure she had some support. I was able to ensure she was out of the situation and living on her own before I eventually went off to DeVry Institute of Technology to waste four months of my life thinking I wanted to be a computer programmer. I did very well in the classes, graduating my first time with a 98% average before leaving, never to return.

I know it shocks The Wife when she asks my daughter what her friends want to do for a career and she only has vague ideas. Back in my time, I had no clue what my friends wanted to do with their lives. Most of them went on to engineering degrees at McMaster. I went on to a four-year hibernation of the mind working for the fast food industry...Arby's.

I eventually went back to college as a mature student and got a Graphic Design Diploma.

And here I am, working at TELUS as a manager for the Leadership Development Program. Why did I spend all that money? Why did I take so long to figure out what I wanted to do?

And what the hell happened to all that time?

And now I'm full circle, walking around campuses, not as the prospective student, but as the prospective wallet for my daughter.

My God, I'm old.