The Durty 30 Club!

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 - the countdown to the New Year began at 11:59pm on December 31, 2010. As the crowd around me was chanting, my palms were beginning to sweat profusely. But why would a simple countdown be so nerve-racking? Could death be waiting right around the corner? Was I in desperate need to make a deposit, yet the bathroom was nowhere in sight? Was the mafia hot on my heels, looking for that overdue check I owe them for stiffing them on that last 'run' they sent me on? None of the above...rather, it was worse than I could have imagined...the countdown to my demise! The demise of my youth, that is! Just then, as the crowd cheered after yelling out '1' and 'Happy New Year', I looked around the dance floor and realized that I was then one of the oldest people in the club and that I was no longer welcomed . See, at the stroke of midnight, I had turned thirty years old. I felt like running out of the ball so fast that I lose my Adidas sneaker for fear that I would turn into an ugly house servant and my new BMW truck would turn into a pumpkin. I felt all of the drunken eyes staring at me, pointing and laughing and chanting about how old I had become and how my wrinkles and bags under my eyes are now more pronounced. As I tried to ignore the laughter, I continued to dance and sip on my bottle of beer. Just as my favorite Lady Gaga song came on, I got excited and began dancing harder, thinking that I would drown my misery in the loud thumping beat...which, to my realization, my body had already begun shutting down. I quickly came to realize that I can still drop it down low to the floor, but can no longer bring it back up. So, there I was, the middle of the dance floor, stuck...on the floor! It was after I pulled myself up on the corner of the stage that I realized the madness behind the simpleton I was dancing too. And as I looked around the dance floor at all of the drunk children, stumbling and fighting to keep their composure and stand upright, I realized that my sober crossing into true adulthood may not be all that bad. Sure, there are downfalls like not being as limber as in times past, but, there's so much more out there to enjoy. Like, no longer being carded when at the bar; or enjoying cocktails laced with Metamucil or 'Immunity-boost' powders. Either way, life can only get better from here on. So, to all of the members of the Durty 30 Club, your newest member has arrived and welcomes your guidance, helping hand and age-reversal secrets as I navigate the next 10 years of semi-faithful service.