The New 20

There have been a few articles, most recently this one, which stated that 40 is the new 30. I have no problem with that. I figured Americans were living longer, it would only be natural that the 'middle-age' would be increasing. Vitamins, supplements, weenie pills, it's all in the cards.

It wasn't until Michelle's comment on yesterday's post when something hit me. It was, as far as I can tell, an epiphany. In a nutshell, she observed that my GTA post sounded like a stereotypical American teenager. When I read it, I thought to myself, No, this sounds more like an American twentysomething. That's when the light bulb turned on (GE bulb. 60-watt).

If 40 is the new 30, then there's got to be a new 20. Mathmatically, logically, it makes sense. If middle age is occurring later in life, why can't maturity stretch out another 7 or 8 years?

I am one of the fortunate students who graduated college under the reign of George II. If you haven't been following the job market very closely, there are roughly three jobs as a fry cook at Burger King for every 17,000 graduates, and it's been holding steady since his coronation. The high hopes of so many recent diploma recipients came crashing down upon the realization that they'd be telemarketing for the next few years. Or selling Ginsu knives. Or playing secretary for Dad. Or volunteering for pharmaceutical trials. Or, for many, they simply went back to school.

Suffice to say, a good number of the graduates were (and still are) working on less than desirable incomes. Some still live in or near college housing. Responsibility is close to zero, save for the odd post-undergrad here and there who decided to take in a stray dog, so the party lifestyle never stops. Eventually, the entry-level toil leads to a promotion, a better income, an apartment with running water, a spouse, a family, and boom. Now you're 40. But until then, you're still stuck (sometimes voluntarily) in an emerging new lifestyle period between college and reality, a twilight zone of video games, drunken gropefests, midnight trips to Taco Bell and a plantation's worth of weed. It's entirely like, well, being in high school again. Except now there's no forced curfew (except for punch-in time), no parents (except for gas-money), and no teachers (except the ones you meet at the bar).

So is 30 really the new 20?

I have a few friends who married before 25, but compared to the number that hovers around 30 with no forseeable spousal prospects, they seem like a small carbon bubble in a 12-ounce bottle of Labatts. I can count on one hand the number of twentysomethings who don't cringe at the phrase "settling down." If you ask most of my friends if they have a girlfriend, you'll get more than a few who answer, "I guess."

X-Box is preferred over exchange rates. Pot preferred over politics. It's not that they avoid growing up, it's just that they don't have to. Yet. And if you can gain a few more years of worldly experience before making the profound decisions that affect the rest of your life, there's really no harm in that. I'd say there's a pretty strong argument in favor of it. But time will tell.

When my girlfriend (who just graduated) and I talk about "long-term," we're talking about plans for the weekend after next. We don't have goals. We won't have social security. I'm really not sure how my 403b is doing, and she's not even sure what that is. We, in the broader sense, are living life as it comes, having been presented with a form of adulthood we don't quite understand. And you know what, we're enjoying it.

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