Everyone's Gone Loonie...

Our dollar made par yesterday. For about an hour or so. I was watching CBC last night, The Hour, and the previews for The National grabbed my attention. I found myself saying, 'I wonder what that means for the Canadian economy?' and you know what? I actually cared.

I'm going to be 30 soon and while that doesn't bother me in a 'oh my god, I'm mourning my youth' kind of way, I am being reminded an awful lot, just about everywhere I turn actually, that things in my life are changing. My perspective most of all.

Like the other day when I was at the grocery store. I'm all about the bargain bin, and they had one for movies and another for CD's. So first of all, I can't even tell you the last time I bought a CD. I don't even download music, that's how culturally irrelevant I am. Anyway, I'm sifting through the bin and come across one of my favourite albums, Blue Rodeo's Five Days in July (which I still think of as their 'new' album, by the way...don't quote me, but I think it was released in '97) and it's like ten dollars. This very thing happened to me a few years ago when I was in a record store in Windsor, ON. Same kind of bin but this time it was The Smiths, Louder Than Bombs, which was the first CD I every purchased and I remember it being likely around twenty dollars at the time. I do believe the bin price was $4.99. *sigh* Twinkies have a longer shelf live.

I remember thinking when I was really quite young that I never wanted to be the type of adult who didn't 'get' stuff, like changing music styles or anything that was new or different. But it really is inevitable in certain arenas.

I had my nephew come to visit a few years ago. He was thirteen at the time. The weather was awful the weekend he stayed with us, so he spent most of the time watching tv or playing Playstation. I have a feeling that's what he would've done regardless. In any event, it was my first exposure to the Family channel for any great length of time. Endless hours of That's so Raven, some horrendous Amanda Bynes show and their ilk. Finally I came out of my subliminal Disney trance and turned to my nephew and said, 'Dude, this stuff sucks.' I was expecting a typical teenage bout of defensiveness, for attacking ones taste in anything at that age is akin to attacking ones very identity. He just lay there in an overly stimulated hump on my couch and mumbled, 'Yeah...I know.' In an effort to cleanse his palate and perhaps pique an interest in something that may actually fire some neurons, I made him watch a few episodes of South Park and I'm With Busey.

Skip ahead a few years and now he's full blown into adolescence. He's all about his clothes, his music, his computer...I can't keep up. He actually had categories for all of his jeans. I was subjected to a rather lengthy lecture on exactly where it is that I should be buying my clothing. Apparently, Old Navy is no better than a department store and I shouldn't even deign to step into the place. American Eagle, Hollister, Ambercrombie and Fitch...that's where it's at. Rather than argue with the poor lad, I took it as a compliment that he failed to notice that I am not twelve nor do I have an ass the size of a pea. My only comment on the subject was that I refuse to pay eighty dollars for a ripped up, frayed, distressed and bleached t-shirt with a logo plastered all over it. But there was a time when I would've. Lest I forget the pair of 14 hole, blue Dr. Marten's languishing in obscurity in my closet. Yea, those still come in real handy.

For now, he's bought into the hype. Heaven help him when he's old enough to get a credit card. All those ring tones and txt mssg's and DVD's and video games tend to add up after a while.

As for me, I rather like this growing up stuff. I don't care about any of that stuff that used to cause me so much anxiety. Heck, there are more days than I'd like to admit now where I can't be bothered to do my hair. I don't know if that's a sign of being well adjusted and relaxed or incredibly lazy and neglectful of self.

Meh.