I'm getting older again. Another year has passed since my birth. Thirty-eight for the counters out there. And I'm feeling old.

A few weeks back at dinner with co-workers, my boss mused about what we'd be doing in fifty years (he's 70 and could retire any time he wants). I said I wouldn't be doing much of anything. I'd be almost 90. That's when he realized how old I really was.

So I guess I still look kinda young for my age. Or act younger than my age. But I don't look like a youngster. And I'm not amazed (most of the time) at how young people at the bars look. They do dress better than me, though. My jeans and t-shirts (scarily similar to what I wore in high school) are nothing compared to everyone else's uniform.

Maybe I've hit the great malaise of my life. I rarely feel all the way awake. I switched from coffee to tea at work, and the cut (about in half) in caffeine does affect me. I'm adjusting and not going back since only drinking coffee on the weekends makes it taste simply delicious. But I don't think that's it either.

I have to take naps these days. Going out for a late dinner? Take a nap. Going out for rock and roll? Take a nap. Got nothing to do for an hour or so? You get the picture.

I could take "energy boosters." Or Red Bull. Or even another cup of coffee. But amping up instead of shutting down for an hour? I don't know, I'll take the naps. It makes for an easier come down later in the night.

I used to have energy. I used to stay up all night (and sleep half the day). I used to drink three or four cokes a day. And now, well, I gotta plan to rock and roll all night and party every day. Or even part of the day.

Patience fails quickly. After watching one of the longer running local bands play their final gig last night (Pan!c has passed into legend...and Rachel is moving to Denver), the next band up was a metal rap thing I just had no time for. I downed my beer and headed out into the cold night. No way I was standing through that for an hour.

I'm not in touch with pop culture these days. I watch TV shows no one watches (so they get cancelled quickly). I haven't seen Avatar and can't believe Transformers 2 tricked the masses into a $400 million dollar gross. Can anyone tell me what the fuck that movie was even about? I didn't think so.

I did buy the number one album a couple of weeks ago. Vampire Weekend is the bees knees. And I was three albums ahead of the Kings of Leon curve.

But it seems like none of the bands my bands have played with are around anymore. And who are the great new local bands? I still haven't found them.

A friend once told me (when she turned 35) that she felt old because she was no longer in the desired 18-34 demographic. When I turned 35 I didn't feel that way. I do now. Maybe I'm just immature. But I know there's nothing anyone's trying to sell to 38 year old bachelors except mortgages, online dating and weight loss schemes. Too young for Viagra, too old for crack.

I was able to get a drink quickly last night when line was three or four people deep all the way down the bar. It's a trick I'm not explaining. I want to keep this skill for a while.

And I'm still rocking in a kick ass band that plays original music. We're dinosaurs, but the comet isn't coming for us yet. We joke sometimes about being way too old to be doing this kind of thing. And then we kinda look at each other and wonder, "But what would we do if we didn't do this?"

After getting back from the bar last night, I listened to records till about two in the morning. It was the last night I wouldn't have any neighbors on either side of me. For a couple of months I've been the only resident of my triplex. A couple moved into one yesterday, but didn't stay the night.

So I took advantage of my freedom. Poured another round, rocked the vinyl and said to myself, "Self. On Monday you won't be able to do this anymore. They're gonna call the cops on your ancient ass."

Which isn't true at all. But it was a good excuse to shake the old fogey out of my boogie.

Matt Worley wonders what his half-life is.