I can remember a time when I used to lie about how old I was – old being the operative word. I can also remember thinking how absurd it was that people would actually lie about their age in efforts to appear younger than they were. Why, I naively thought, would anybody rely on random time, the solar calendar in our case, to dictate how good they felt about themselves? My, what a difference a few rounds of 365 days makes! As I continue to get on in my years, which, if nothing else, is good indication that I’m still alive, I’ve come to appreciate the errors of my ways. For the first time in my life, I realize that I am no longer as young as I always assumed I’d be. To the contrary, I find myself out of touch with any actual semblance of today’s youth, a segment of the population I am decidedly no longer a part of. The tip off was “Soulja Boy,” a song that apparently has a dance that goes along with it, one I had no clue existed. But with no bar-mitzvahs, sweet sixteens or alcohol free-clubs to guide me along, how was I supposed to know the Macarena was over and done with? Maybe the first sign of getting older is recognizing that you’re no longer young... Whatever the case, I have a new perspective on those who lie about their age; they are brave, brave men and women, and I hope they’ll allow me in their ranks should I one day decide to join. Until then, thank god I’m not thirty yet.