How old is 42 really?
Twitter annoyances, young geniuses, Bourdain and Cats
This week, in a not-so-surprising turn of events, I turned 42. The ghost of Douglas Adams compelled me to make the low-hanging reference.
Birthdays, like most milestone days, are mostly non-events in our household. N and I aren’t big on scrounging the retail aisles for gifts (also see: skill issue). Early on, we recognized that if we fall into the birthday-industrial-complex, it is going to be an escalating chain of he-did/she-did that would only lead to heartburn, and we decided we’ll treat them as another day.
But it’s occasionally nice to hit milestones and stop to think about them. It’s nice when people wish you (even if prompted by you). There’s a certain monarchian pleasure in knowing that, even if for a few milliseconds, you were in a lot of people’s heads. Also, these kinds of milestone days are the only real markers we have for the passage of time. “Remember that vacation where I tripped and fell” or “that New Year’s when we got robbed” are more memorable bookmarks in the pages of life than another Monday in a series of endless Mondays.
Coming back to 42 (is that with GST?), the story in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy goes thus:
The Ultimate Question, the enquiry that is supposed to lend the answer to life, the universe and everything is posed to Deep Thought, the most powerful computer around. After computing for 7.5 million years, Deep Thought spits out the confounding (and dissapointing) answer of ‘42’. Taking a page out of an Indian bureucrat’s book (eerily foreshadowing where LLMs are going), Deep Thought blames the question for the confusion, “I think the problem, to be quite honest with you, is that you've never actually known what the question is." In order to reframe the question (whose answer is still 42, btw) it would need to build a whole new type of computer. This computer is Earth
Essentially, Deep Thought gaslit everyone.
However, if you abstract out some inconvenient details, Earth is being proposed as a giant computer to answer the ultimate question of life.
Living on Earth, therefore, is the operation to find the answer. That the point of life is life itself, the purpose of existence is…to exist. We might as well make the most of our time here in the best way possible.
These are realizations that take an adult human approximately 42 years to reach.
It’s all very meta.
How old should one feel at 42?
Now, this is a more pressing question (one I’d have asked Deep Thought)
I spend way too much time on Twitter than I want to or should and thus, encounter with mind-boggling frequency people just saying….whatever. One common theme is little human pipsqueaks wondering (and sometimes telling) the world how old they are (and how wise they are) at various insignificant ages like 18, 25, etc.
There are two variants of age-related annoyers: the alpha bro variant and the beta egirl variant. The alpha bro variants usually declare that “if you haven’t figured out your life by 30, it’s so over.” Invariably there’s an even more alpha bro replying, “30 is too late, if you haven’t solved it by 25, ngmi” (while dusting off crumbs from his sweats in mom’s basement). The beta egirl variant worries that they are too old already and time’s running out.
Like this example below.
I hope these people live long so they can realize that they’ve lived 80% of their life as ‘old people’. All of this makes you wonder, though. I know 42 is old. I also know 42 is not that old. But these are just words.
The trouble is that we keep hearing about the edge of the normal curve weirdos who did great things at a very young age.
Mozart apparently wrote his first symphony at 8, an age when I was still fascinated by boogers.
Pascal, that rascal Blaise, built the first calculator at 19.
Einstein developed his theory of relativity when he was 26, the age when I first experienced snow in my life.
Isaac Newton was an overachieving young nerd. This little clip from NDT is both inspiring and mildly panic-inducing if you’re a day over 26.
The mavericks aren’t even a drop in the ocean (when you consider that 117 billion humans have ever lived on this planet). Comparing yourself to any of them is like being a dog and aspiring to be like Lyca and go to space.
Larry David created Seinfeld at 42.
Alan Rickman got his iconic role of Hans Gruber at 42.
Bryan Cranston did Breaking Bad at 51.
Stan Lee created Spidey, Iron Man, etc. only after his 40s.
None of them woke up when they were 42 and decided they were going to do something then. They’ve been plugging away at an industry in their unique way, and then things click.
The other day I bought a banana, and it was too tough and green. I left it out, and after a while it was bright yellow and juicy. While I am not a massive fan of banana in general, if I were to enjoy one, that was the day. It was perfectly ripe but hadn’t gotten soggy.
Give or take, humans are about 50-60% banana (genetically).
They ripen with age. They truly develop their voice and taste. They get a sense of what they bring to the table. They become more them, and then (if they are good, which is a prerequisite) they become ‘overnight’ successes because now everyone wants to get a taste.
It could be a pivotal point, too.
A ripe banana needn’t just be eaten as is. It could become a smoothie or go into a banana cake. If you stretch your imagination (like this analogy), it could be in a Banoffee pie or a banana split.
You can do much with a green banana, but once it starts ripening, it’s up for all kinds of dances.
I don’t know much about how good Anthony Bourdain was as a cook, but I love his travel shows. His way of viewing the world appeals to me. His writing, visceral and unabashedly honest (calling out the ugly elephants in the room), always felt authentic.
To me, his love affair with Vietnam and his Vietnam episodes will remain some of the best travel shows ever made. When he sits on a little plastic stool at a roadside stall and stares at a bowl of soup noodles with love, I feel the true romance of travel and food.
“People are put on earth for various purposes. I was put on earth to do this: Eat noodles right here.”
He is both romantic and punk rock, a combination that enormously appeals to me.
But I am digressing.
Bourdain’s life as a writer, journalist, and world traveler all began only around 42 when he sent his iconic “Don’t Eat Before Reading This” piece to The New Yorker in 1999. The article blew the lid off the ugliness in restaurant culture and propelled him into being this visceral, colorful writer/traveler figure.
Did Bourdain write this piece suddenly? No. He was always aspiring to write. He kept jotting down his thoughts and looked at Orwell for inspiration. In his heart, this is what he desired, but he worked in the kitchens. This piece, however, became a book, which became a TV show which became more books and TV shows.
Bourdain the banana found his Banoffee pie.
Consider Cats (yes, we are moving from flora to fauna).
I’ve become increasingly obsessed with them in the last few years. (My one life advice: Pet a Cat). But one of the biggest obsessions for me is how present they are. When I see one on the verge of a hunt, they are so wired for focus. When I see one lounging in the sun, I aspire to that level of contentment.
I’d like to be cozily happy in my smallness in the scheme of things. I have no desire to stamp my presence in the world nor create something that would stand the test of time (nothing ever does anyway). I don’t want to (see how I’ve reframed it from ‘I can’t’) compose a symphony, discover new theories of the universe, or invent a new device that engineering students would use to spell 5318008.
I feel less insecure about what I don’t have and do not feel overly proud of anything that I do have (there’s been a lot of luck). I think I am more generous with kindness (including to myself) and value people a lot more that I used to.
At the same time, I have not withdrawn from what life has to offer. I do not wish to coast the rest of the time. The thing I’d hate is for time beyond to be a mere epilogue to a story already written in the first half.
I still desire things and experiences. I’ll put out Instagram stories. I am vain enough to note that the salt and pepper beard doesn’t look too bad when it grows. I indulge in my FOMO and hype cycles. I dream of unattainable random things like floating in a yacht. I want to have written a book, travel more, and spend more time with people I like. Make new connections.
It’s a happy dichotomy for now.
“Your body is not a temple; it’s an amusement park. Enjoy the ride.”
~Anthony Bourdain
Could be Worse,
Tyag
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happy birthday! What an interesting article, from nerdy books to bananas to cats. 10/10!
Cheers to 42 ❤️