I was startled by a brekkie radio segment last week, which asked listens to reveal stuff that shouldn’t bug them, but does.
Some terse young thing revealed her pet hate: people over 30 who go to night clubs.
She thought it was creepy and said surely at that age they could find some other way to entertain themselves.
Wow, there’s a reality check.
Thirty year olds seem so youthful to me.
Yet according to the terse young thing they’re icky degenerates. Does she think they’re only hanging around in nightclubs to prey on “young” people?
Well, maybe some of them are.
Anyways … imagine how old I must seem to the terse young thing.
I wonder what she thinks are acceptable pursuits for 48 year olds? Crochet and bingo?
I miss dancing in nightclubs.
I don’t miss how late you had to stay up to do it. But I miss the dancing.
Every now and then I get the chance to dance at a party and it’s such a joyful experience. But it’s pretty rare.
I had bulk fun at something called Hot Dub Time Machine last year. I wrote a blog about it called Hot, Sticky Mess.
In a nutshell, Hot Dub Time Machine is “the world’s first travelling dance party.” As the website explains: “Songs are played in “strict” chronological order from 1954 to 2015 with enormous mashed visuals all scratched live from vinyl turntables.”
It turns out my Maroubra mates looooooove Hot Dub and are mad keen to go again. The bloke who does it has a gig in Enmore in July.
I’m thinking about it … just as long as my wrinkles don’t offend the other patrons and make them feel uncomfortable …
I expect the terse young thing doesn’t think people over 30 should go to dance parties either.
Ah, bugger the terse young thing, she’s a killjoy.
I think it’s weird when under 30s dance to ’80s music, so there!
Song of the day: Nena “99 Luftballons”