I’ve tried to put getting old off as long as I possibly can. Sometimes I knock the GST off when I tell people my age. I try to keep up with technology. I listen to new bands. I refuse to mutter darkly about Gen Y (without Gen Y, we’d haz no lolcats!). But today, I feel really really old. The reason? I’ve just found out that it’s been twenty years since the release of Nirvana’s Nevermind album.
Twenty frickin years.
I remember all the hype in the 80s, when the twenty year anniversary of Sgt Pepper’s happened: a bunch of (what I then considered) lunatic cashed-up boomer hippies grasping pathetically to their youths going around saying, “It was twenty years ago today.” I revelled in my twenties as though they were never going to run out. I was never going to be a lunatic cashed-up Gen-X grunger grasping pathetically to my youth going around saying, “Oh well whatever never mind.”
And yet, I do still listen to my 90s music. There’s plenty of Radiohead and Pumpkins on my fancy iPod in my luxury 4WD. I play Astrid videos of The Breeders and Sonic Youth on my giant flat screen TV. I often stream my Tori Amos and Kristin Hersh albums via my integrated wireless sound system. OH MY GOD, I AM BECOMING A GIANT CLICHE!
So much has happened in twenty years. I got me an educashun, I published 21 books, I had two children, I started and ended a marriage. I have lived such a lot of my life. Why, then, does Nevermind feel like it was just yesterday?
I recently listened to author Claire Corbett talk about the phrase “time flies”. In fact, as she pointed out, the original Latin (tempus fugit) means “time flees”. Time is a fugitive. It’s running away from you. I really feel that today. A special shout-out to my Mellon Collie Gen-X friends on this fine morning, here in the future.