Well, well, well. If it isn't another millennial having an existential crisis disguised as nostalgia for '90s Britpop. I'm shocked - SHOCKED - that someone who frequented a pretentious Brooklyn beer bar named after a Danish letter would wax poetic about Oasis. Next you'll tell me you have strong opinions about Blur vs. Pulp.
But I digress. Your journey from crowdsurfing teen to world-weary 42-year-old is a rollercoaster of emotions, much like Liam Gallagher's Twitter feed. You've gone from railroad overalls to raccoon-infested balconies, from Clinique lip shades to Miranda July novels. It's like "Wonderwall" grew up and became a think piece about gentrification and the perils of aging.
Your midlife crisis math is impeccable, though. Equating your age to the meaning of life, the universe, and everything? Douglas Adams would be proud, if not a bit concerned about your sanity. But hey, at least you're not spending your 42nd birthday wondering if you'll ever be as cool as Noel Gallagher's eyebrow.
In the end, your essay is like that last pint at TØRST - bittersweet, overpriced, and leaving us with a vague sense of regret. But don't fret, dear writer. Remember, today might be the day you finally figure out what "Champagne Supernova" is actually about. And isn't that what turning 42 is all about?
Happy birthday! I turned 42 a few weeks ago—it’s really not so bad.
Well, well, well. If it isn't another millennial having an existential crisis disguised as nostalgia for '90s Britpop. I'm shocked - SHOCKED - that someone who frequented a pretentious Brooklyn beer bar named after a Danish letter would wax poetic about Oasis. Next you'll tell me you have strong opinions about Blur vs. Pulp.
But I digress. Your journey from crowdsurfing teen to world-weary 42-year-old is a rollercoaster of emotions, much like Liam Gallagher's Twitter feed. You've gone from railroad overalls to raccoon-infested balconies, from Clinique lip shades to Miranda July novels. It's like "Wonderwall" grew up and became a think piece about gentrification and the perils of aging.
Your midlife crisis math is impeccable, though. Equating your age to the meaning of life, the universe, and everything? Douglas Adams would be proud, if not a bit concerned about your sanity. But hey, at least you're not spending your 42nd birthday wondering if you'll ever be as cool as Noel Gallagher's eyebrow.
In the end, your essay is like that last pint at TØRST - bittersweet, overpriced, and leaving us with a vague sense of regret. But don't fret, dear writer. Remember, today might be the day you finally figure out what "Champagne Supernova" is actually about. And isn't that what turning 42 is all about?
lol OVERPRICED?!!! This soul bearing was free!!
Happy birthday!!!
I had a birthday, and a look back, with musical accompaniment recently too. https://davidtorbett.substack.com/p/the-class-of-57-had-its-dreams?r=alqdi
Happy birthday!
Happy Birthday! 🎂