Kelly's World | Man I feel old
My doctor once told me that a man is only as old as the woman he feels.
Considering he’s been married for decades and all tun grandfather, I will yield to his ‘wisdom’.
Recently, there were two incidents which reminded me about just how old I’m getting.
First off, I was listening to music videos on BET Jams one day, when a familiar beat started up.
I immediately starting humming the words to Ms Jackson, the hit by Outkast back in 2000.
So imagine my surprise when I actually look up at the TV and realise that the song and video was actually for a song by honorary Jamaican DJ Khaled and SZA.
Mi nearly drop dung! Good ting mi have good constitution.
I’m sure those who really study music will let me know that a note or two might be different and the pitch might not be quite the same, or whatever.
Di Ms Jackson get sample like free sausage a one food fair. So how do I know I’m getting old? When they start sampling and remixing and remastering songs that I knew as I teenager.
The bones felt a little more creaky after watching the video.
The second incident that reminded me I’m getting old is I did a feature on a popular watering hole downtown.
The owner told me they were having a pool party later that evening and invited me.
“Come ‘bout 8 p.m.,” he said. Something told me that was a tad optimistic on his part. But I had work to do anyway, so I killed some time and left out about the suggested time.
People, mi lef deh midnight, and all now not one smaddy nuh reach inna nuh pool. Di wata just siddung deh a wait fi smaddy stir it.
To make it worse, the ‘early juggling’ songs were songs from my early 20s. Yikes!
I said my goodbyes and went home. The following day I received two short videos of the event, and the venue was packed to capacity.
So where the hell did all these people come from? Well, apparently, they didn’t stream in until 2 to 3 a.m.
And that’s apparently how we do things in Jamaica, particularly in the inner city. Sorry, but unless I spent the entire day sleeping, there is no way I’m going to a party at 2.
Now, I’m well aware that other than the fictional character Benjamin Button, nobody ages in reverse. I get it, it’s a natural part of life. But massa, this age thing ain’t no joke.
Imagine looking at a spritely 21-year-old and you start thinking to yourself, ‘jeez, she’s old enough to be my daughter’. That’s not a good feeling.
So now I’m worrying about how long it will be before I’m in a wheelchair at the old folks home.
Hopefully, I’m a few years away from that. And maybe I’ll end up in a situation where I can stay with family, hopefully without being a burden.
Either way, I’d better get ready. I ain’t getting any younger.
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