I'm 11100!
It seems that the categories of young adult life fall more or less into:
  • 13-15, young kid
  • 16-20, teen-ager
  • 21-24, adult... just barely
  • 25-30, adult
  • 30+ untrustworthy
I do realize that that list is more than a little ageist, so I'll stick in a disclaimer that I'm well aware that it's perfectly possible to be a suburban sell-out at 16, and a radical at 45 (and, hey, Lenin didn't write What Is to be Done? until he was 32).

At any rate, there is certainly a prevailing cultural trope that has the age 30 as the major transitional period away from radicalism and towards conservatism, away from Change and towards Stability. I'm in the 25-30 age bracket, and last year I was square in the middle, at 27, with two years of Youth on one side, and another two years to go on the other side. Now, however, I'm firmly on the 30 side of 25-30. I'm not sure I like it.

Still, I'm just catching my breath from my early twenties, and as soon as I can I plan to launch myself into the world of Art of Truth and Beauty, and that's still much more important to me than Stability or Status. I hope. Maybe I'll read this again in five years and laugh at myself...

And I feel better after reading about Poppa Neutrino in the New Yorker last week.

He was born in '33, which makes him... 72. He just set off to sail across the Pacific (and possibly around the world) on a raft made from scraps and garbage. He sailed across the Atlantic on a similar raft in his 60's... He's amazing.

And, of course, my grandmother is 84 (er... I think that's right) and she just got back from a trip to Europe with two of her children and two of her grandchildren. She has a couple of months to recover before heading back to Europe with my mother in August. So apparently I have good genes for a nice, long, active life. So that's good.