30 for 30
taken june 23rd 2011, my brother's 24th birthday.
I remember celebrating my brother’s 24th birthday in downtown Raleigh two weeks out from moving to St. Louis in 2011. I was 18, fresh out of high school laughing at how they pulled my diploma two weeks earlier for “walking with too much swagger.” Swagger. That was such a funny word at the time. Under Lil’ B influence, swag had replaced words/phrases in my vocabulary such as yes, thank you, and let’s get it. My parents were moving to St. Louis and I was going with them until I began college that fall at the University of North Carolina at Charlotte. My brother was staying behind, so it was his first time living on his own, minus the one time he lived in the dorms at UNCG.
It was a mellow North Carolina night. As the sun was setting upon the City of Oaks, there was a sense of youthfulness and possibility in the air. How did I know? You could feel these things. North Carolina summers are special, ask any teenager from the Triangle. Pink and purple haze polluted the cloudless skies as we walked to the second floor of some fancy-hipster-like restaurant. They had metal chairs set up at a table for 10 to 12 of us. I was wearing a Lakers cap I purchased from Los Angeles, my Roc Nation chain, an Urban Outfitter’s graphic tee with shapes on it, and my white Levi cargos with my favorite pair of shoes, the white cement Air Jordan III’s. There’s not much I wanted that I didn’t have back then. I can damn near say the same with my life 6 years later, with the exception of time.
That night I tried alligator for the first time, and I loved it. I haven’t had it since, so I couldn’t tell you whether my opinion of the alligator was subconsciously based on how good of a time I was having or if the alligator itself was really that good. Everybody was laughing, conversation never ceased the whole night. I was thinking of how 24 was a ways away and when it did come, I hoped it to be as fun as it was for my brother.
Now, the year is 2017. He turned 30 this past Friday and I’m the one whose 24.
I’m as close to 30 as I was to 24 when I was 18. This realization is obvious due to math and the nature of numbers, but due to the combination of logic and feeling it’s a bit discomforting. I couldn’t tell you how old I feel, but I don’t feel as young as 24 suggests. Perhaps this is what 24 is supposed to feel like and I simply don’t like it. 30 though?! An ’87 baby at it’s finest.
Sometimes I want to scream in public “Remember when we were all under 21 trying to be 21, now we’re all over 21 trying to avoid 30?!”, but I feel like everyone’s too busy living their lives to be worried about things like that. It’s like I’m the only one obsessed with the concept of time. Sure, I get it, they say time is a man-made construct. I won’t get too deep into it, but the argument in support of that statement lies within the fact time is a measurement made aware to us by our conscious. Do I believe it? I’m not sure, but I’m sure part of my curiosity for an answer to that aforementioned question is why I’m so perplexed by time itself.
30? T h I r t y?! I’m 6 years away. I’m where my brother was when he sat across the table from me that one festive night back in 2011 where he convinced me to try a piece of alligator. Not only am I 6 years away from that moment in time with my brother, but I’m also 6 years away from my dad when he was getting his doctorates from the University of Nebraska, going to school full-time while my mom was pregnant, soon to have their youngest child, a baby boy that would end up being me. All at the ripe age of 30. Surreal.
Forget 6 years, I can’t tell you how quickly 24 years in this lifetime of mine has gone by. Just a few days ago, while my mom was in town, we were at Sam’s Club in Raleigh. The one off Saunders street. My mom and I were there to pick up a few things and while we are walking by the meat section, she begins thinking aloud, “I wonder if Tina still works here.” I pay it no mind, but after walking 50 feet or so, she approaches a shorter, older white lady wearing a Sam’s Club vest. They hug and embrace each other for a few seconds, before my mom tells her she’s in town from Boston visiting her two sons. Although the lady is with a customer, she manages to have a very brief exchange of words with my mother before wishing us well. As we’re walking away, I ask my mom who that was. My mom tells me it’s Ms. Tina. I asked who she is and apparently, Ms. Tina used to work with my mom at Harris Teeter in Durham back 20+ years ago while my dad was getting his post-doctorates from Duke.
Life is a beautiful thing; I can’t write it enough. These days, we’re so far away from the moments where we thought we were so far away from the moments we’re living now. Some nights I stay up thinking of what I want out of life and how I can get it. I’ve realized that not only do I want to experience it all, but I want to experience it all together. I hate how our time here is limited. I hate how we only have one chance at this. I hate it, I really do, but I guess in the midst of the hate, there is love to be found and it’s our responsibility to find it, shall we find the courage and persistence to keep searching. Maybe love is the answer, and should it not be, may I stop questioning these things so often.
Happy birthday big bro, I hope you go 30 for 30. I love you man.
-RDL4EVER