Since most of my friends are now in a group we like to call The Fellowship of 40, occasionally in times of stress (like when they live on the Pacific Rim and I'm up chatting with them at 3 in the morning about whether or not they will be fleeing tsunami waves), we end up klatsching about what's it's like to be, uh, over 39.
Several of us have decided it's become very helpful to compare ourselves to architecture. As in:
If I were a building "born" in 1969, right now I'd be going through my "urban blight" phase.
You know, we have another good 30 years or more before we get to be "gentrified."
By now, we've had had a least 4 new roofs.
We need new plumbing.
Our air quality is bad.
You can't trust the integrity of our foundations anymore.
Nobody wants to own us now but struggling AG churches and underfunded non-profits.
I'm older than the Hotel Jugoslavija!
I'm the same age as the St. Louis Arch!
Most of our generation has either been razed or radically remodeled!
It does sound bleak. But I try to focus on the fact that at least when we were built we were referred to as Modernism. And Nasa Huston's Johnson Space Center (b. 1969) is still pretty foxy.