The Attention of Young Men

I have never been one to shy away from a younger man. When I was 29, I was in love with a 20-year-old. Used to tell people we met when he asked me to buy him some beer at the 7-11. (It was a joke). I couldn't help myself. There was an undeniable physical chemistry and an intellectual stimulation. While it didn't end well, that relationship was a surprise and showed me that love has no age limit.

After last night, I think the age limit has been reached.

My friend, Jenn, is the consummate mother. She raised two sons of her own and loves to nurture and feed. Nearly every night, she has house guests: her ex-boyfriend and his current squeeze, or a pal who lives 20 miles away and doesn't feel like driving home, and many nights, a young musician friend who doesn't have a car and needs a ride into work the next morning. Not only does Jenn have a spare bedroom and plenty of extra blankets, she always seems to have enough eggs, cheese, spinach and toast to make sure everybody has a tasty omelette the next morning. "Can I get you anything else?" "C'mon, just finish up this last bit of coffee!" Everyone feels special when they share a meal at Jenn's. And, she usually won't let you wash the dishes, either.

Last night, after attending an open-mic show in town, Jenn asked me if I wouldn't mind driving one of her grandson's friends, Dave, back to her place, as her VW camper was already full. Before we left, he and his buddies argued about the kind of liquor they should bring back to Jenn's. Vodka was high on the list, but in the end, beer, whiskey and tequila won out. I had forgotten how exciting alcohol was to young men. During the drive, Dave told me all about the adventures he and his friends had, while busking their way from Florida to Taos during the past 6 weeks. They played music and told fake fortunes in Southern towns like Savannah, Greenville S.C., and Asheville. They landed with friends of Jenn's in Philadelphia, PA and were "held hostage" by a woman who needed strong backs to move a house full of furniture. As they slowly made their way Westward, they met several older women, with extra cash, who were more than happy to buy them dinner and drinks. I didn't ask what they wanted in return. Perhaps, just the companionship of un-jaded youth, in the hopes of rekindling their own inspiration.

It seems to me when I was their age, guys wouldn't be caught dead with women in their 30's, let alone somebody a couple of decades older. I think there is a new attitude about aging these days. The love of Harold and Maude might not seem as bizarre.

When we arrived at Jenn's place (where Dave would be sleeping inside one of the 3 immobile VW campers in the yard), we started to discuss music and he pulled out his tiny guitar and strummed some Bossa Nova and I asked if he was a fan of Jobim. He had never heard of Antonio Carlos Jobim, who created the Bossa Nova sound and wrote many of its hits. Still, I was impressed he was a fan of the idiom, as well as Le Hot Jazz and Django Reinhardt. This was the music he played on the unfamiliar city streets, to earn his passage. He talked about meeting an older lady, a lawyer, in Asheville, who paid for dinner and broke his heart during the trip. I wasn't sure how to ease his pain. Luckily, at that moment, Jenn and the rest of the young men arrived.

Not only had they picked up the booze, they had acquired a couple of extra passengers along the way. Jenn and I were surrounded by five strapping young 22 year-old bucks. And they wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening with us! I hadn't planned on staying, but was coaxed by the chorus of "c'mon, Anne! It'll be fun!" We went inside and Jenn trotted straight to the fridge to see what fixin's she could make. I sat at the round kitchen table, with Dave to my left, his friend Eli next to him, Jenn's grandson Luke across from me and Taos' young blond god, Chris, to my right. Garrett, anther local musician, stayed in the living room with his guitar, immersed in the chords of a new song. Immediately, Chris and Eli wanted to know the other's astrological sign. I was a little stunned. These young guys knew not only their sun signs, but their moons, rising signs, aspects and Chinese astrology too! Eli discussed, at length, the physical characteristics of various zodiac signs. He had me pegged as a Cancer. I had to disappoint him and tell him I was a Capricorn. He redeemed himself by telling me that Capricorn and Cancer are direct opposites and very complimentary.

Soon, the guys discussed their ages. They were all born in 1991!! While I knew they were 22, somehow, the year of their birth hadn't crossed my mind and it occurred to me that I could easily be their mother. Suddenly, the canyon between our ages seemed to grow wider and I felt old. I had always suspected that parents felt their own age more keenly than the childless, as they watched their children grow and mature and suddenly I understood. After brown rice and collard greens, the conversation changed to cartoons and comedy. Not a single guy felt that Mel Brooks was funny. Nobody cracked a smile when I said "Not even Young Frankenstein?" I suddenly felt like an ancient Borscht Belt fan as I realized that humor is generational. While Buggs Bunny and The Road Runner were the fondest cartoons of my youth, they reminisced about Johnny Bravo and Cow and Chicken. I had run out of things to say.

They sure were adorable but my loins were not stirred. I wondered how so many middle-aged men found the companionship of 22-year-old women so appealing? I certainly understand physical attraction, but is it enough to sustain a relationship? The lyrics of Steely Dan's song, "Hey Nineteen" came to mind: Hey Nineteen / That's 'Reatha Franklin / She don't remember the Queen of Soul. I remembered dating my 20-year old and changing those lyrics to Hey Nineteen / That's Donald Fagen / He don't remember the Steely Dan. (thankfully, he was a willing student of jazz-rock fusion). As I watched these young bucks laugh about things I didn't understand, I started to feel very maternal towards this next generation. Even though they asked me to play music with them through the night, I felt it best to head home and ponder the next phase in my life.