I listened today to some of Neil Young's Live Rust. Oh boy. As the opening notes of Like a Hurricane came through the earphones, I shivered and my hair stood on end. I instantly remembered 20 years' ago when I was 18: long walks, late on wet and cold nights, with that song playing full blast on my Walkman. And I remembered how lonely and mixed up and miserable and wracked with longing I was at that age, not all of which was brought on by the music in the first place.
And how much better do I feel now? I've learned a lot, gained some self assurance and some practised skill in a few things. I have a wonderful family and a small number of true, close friends. But when it comes to actually being me, being comfy in my own head, being able to deal with the reality of relationships, say when people are cross or tired, am I any much different? It didn't feel so today.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this. I suppose I was just struck with the thought today that as we come into our mid-to-late thirties, it seems the fears, the longing, the uncertainty and all the rest of those things that blighted our self image and our relationships as teenagers, those things we thought we'd finally dealt with as we turned 30, they're coming thundering back. And suddenly we're teenagers again.
Hell, I even went out the other day and bought a couple of Led Zeppelin CDs (and ripped them straight to my notebook). What's going on here?
I tell you, I'm really looking forward to turning 40, when I have all this stuff sorted out again. Oh yes.
I do hope though that there won't be a relapse every 20 years: can you imagine the old fart in the wheelchair, blanket over his knees, a tear in his eye as Comfortably Numb plays at full volume, again and again?
10:40:41 PM 
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