Staying Grounded

This morning I woke up startled. The wallclock read 7 o'clock, I should have been up and about by 6am if I were to get to work in time. Then I realized it was a Saturday and I slept before 2 am.

I knew I would have another bad day.

There were tons of work to be done and never enough time. I had to get a move on. I had to figure out how to reprogram and I couldnt find the product key. My mom wanted me to change the car seatcovers. I needed to get the bedcover off, the laundry woman had already arrived. My 18-year old nephew needed his crappy haircut fixed by my hairstylist.

I didnt wanna go out of the house. I wanted to sleep til sunday.

My nephew was adamant, he had a debut-party to attend in the evening. So, off we went. We were already heading off to David's Salon, when I saw a hairstylist I knew walking towards my old neighborhood parlor. I used to get my haircut there when I was still in gradschool. The haircutters were artful and cheap, but one thing I learned is that you get what you pay for, at least in haircuts. Thats why I changed barbers.

But I really wanted to get this errand over and done with with the littlest effort possible. I suggested my nephew to park near the parlor instead.

The parlor crew greeted me like a long, lost favorite customer. They thought that I already went abroad. I deflected all their questions, I didnt want to get into their bad graces before I get my nephew's hair done.

After the small talk, I noticed the corner television set was on, showing an old lunchtime program. Despite the years, the show still followed the same format: the old reliable. I used to be glued to that show when I was in my early teens. Back then it was fun and fashionable to watch it, compared to the then-old show in the competitor station.

As I watched the show, I remembered why I liked it back then. It was where I got to know what was in style during those days. In style as in popular, that is what the people in the street liked. The dancers were hiphoping and grooving to a rap song belted by a copycat singer trying to sound like the original artist. Back when I was young, people thought that sounding like the record was the proper way to sing. The dance was all energy and show. The girls wore costumes showing a lot of flesh.

I know I sound so old fashioned, but maybe its because I have outgrown all of that in the same way I outgrew my video games.  I really got old, havent I.

The looks maybe preserved or at least I look younger than my age. But what was inside showed through. Confronted by the youngsters in the noontime show, I was a dinosaur from a by-gone era just like the parlor. 

The music had changed and so must I.