You Know You’re Old When…

People often associate vulnerability with one being able to talk openly about aspects of their life that gives context to their past. That’s not the case for me. For the most part, that makes perfect sense. Getting to a level of comfort in which one shows a side of themselves that most-if any at all see-is intimate. More often than not, the first signs of this is verbal conversation. I make a sizable amount of my living being pretty transparent, so for me to talk personally isn’t a big deal.

I’m pretty much an open book. If someone asks me a question about myself, I will almost always answer earnestly without hesitance. Often, first dates are a real drag because as soon as it comes out that I’m a father, the questions come, and people get fascinated so they want to know more. More or less, I get tired of talking about it than anything else.

The key to my vulnerability is seeing me be silly or catching me in a full dad moment. A woman will know that she’s got me if I’m the former and the latter is usually a precursor for it. You won’t see dance, sing in a serious or cracking through high notes, see me coach a game, or those other little moments unless you’re in or you catch it by accident. I guess because I am very guarded and I write and talk about my life all day, this is my way of keeping something personal for myself.

But I’ll write about those times if something comes up…

Last night, Cydney was at the table not eating her food. While playing around with string beans she said to my nephew and I that she’s the funniest in the family. I said “I’m the funniest,” and my nephew concurred. Almost immediately after, I passively reprimanded Cydney about not eating her food because I didn’t feel like yelling, so I began to suggest she get to it while playfully singing it to the medley of Aretha Franklin’s rendition of “Until You Come Back To Me.”

This lead me to begin to play a good hour’s worth of old music while singing along. My nephew knew quite of the few songs word-for-word and we sang while Cydney looked at us because she didn’t know them. I started with some old Motown and worked my way up to some early 90’s R&B. I ended my DJ set with Hi Five’s “The Kissing Game (I Like),” because the kids know that song and like it quite a bit (Not as much as “She’s Playing Hard To Get” because THAT song is the shit). Somehow, I started breaking out into some old dances from twenty-something years ago.

My nephew then asked me to show him some moves from back in the day. I had already been to the gym, so I was trying to think of something that wouldn’t be cardio. I settled on the Roger Rabbit. Cydney and my nephew tried to copy my stellar moves. Cydney couldn’t fully get it because she’s four; but my nephew couldn’t do it, either. After the Roger Rabbit, I showed them the running man and the cabbage patch. My nephew couldn’t get any of those moves because in 2016, all of the dance moves that kids do are very stiff. That was the first moment in which I actually felt old.

I was trying to show my nephew that all of these dance moves require moving your whole body in which your hips lead everything. He tried to do almost everything in a fairly upright position. I stopped and tried to show him a quick lesson in biology in which your hips can move separately from the rest of his body. He wasn’t getting it. He even tried throwing in a dab into one of the moves. All I could do was feel bad for my children’s future because they are just missing out on so much. Cydney was beginning to feel left out, so I put on Lost Boyz “Music Makes Me High,” and broke out into the LB slide with her because that’s something we’ve been doing for over three years.

Outside of the actual music and the dance moves, the moment in which I really felt old was two minutes after my dance tutorial. I had to grab my left thigh for a moment. My leg was telling me “What in the fuck are you doing?! We don’t do this anymore!” My legs can press over 1100 lbs in the gym and dead lift over 400; but the RUNNING MAN was what made my left quad catch a cramp.

While I’m still a kid at heart, my body isn’t. It was worth it, though.

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