Thoughts on Thirty: Entering the ‘Odyssey’ Phase

By Dave Loos, 11-02-07

This week’s ‘Making It’ themes of aging and ambivalence continue with someone on the other side of Saturn. Read on for Dave Loos’ thoughts on the momentous occasion of his 30th birthday, where he explores questions about the lines between adolescence and adulthood.  One big difference, though: at 27 the technical term for my restlessness is “ants in my pants.” At 30, Dave now gets to call it the “odyssey” phase.
-Big Sis

Over the years I have come to appreciate and revel in the morbid irony that on a day when millions throughout the world celebrate death, I celebrate birth. 

Today, November 2, is Dia de los Muertos, or Day of the Dead. Observed mainly in the Mexican culture, All Soul’s Day, as it is known in other regions, actually isn’t as ghoulish as it sounds. With traditions dating back more than 2,500 years to Mexican indigenous groups, there continues to be an emphasis on celebrating and honoring the lives of the deceased.

Similarly-themed celebrations also appear in some Asian and African cultures, as well as Missoula, Montana, where judging by the size of the parade that will be hard to miss this evening on Higgins Ave., Day of the Dead is a big deal. 

It’s also my birthday, which in the words of Ron Burgundy, makes today a really big deal. The problem is I woke up this morning with two different digits in my age; after you hit the big 2-0, that’s never a good thing. And unfortunately, I didn’t turn 20 today. 

So here we are 30. Like a first date gone badly, this is a tad awkward. I can already tell we’re going to require a transition period as we get to know each other. Just go easy on me: No aches and pains to remind the body of my advancing age, no beer belly as my metabolism slows down ever further, and please no surprises like a receding hairline as I enter my fourth decade.

The truth is being 30 doesn’t bother me too much.  Since I act (and some might say look) like I’m still 25 or 26, I figure I’m okay for the short term. Plus, in times like these I am comforted by a Rolodex of clichés by which to live. Age is just a state of mind. You’re only as old as you feel. Blah, Blah, Blah. I feel nominally better, though we all know that if by some tragic mishap I had procreated in my twenties, I’d be feeling and acting very old by now.

This brings me to what does concern me about leaving 29 in the dust; the fact that my very first memory is the day my father turned 30. I was three years old. He shaved his mustache, creating in my young eyes an unrecognizable man. I noticed before my mom did that morning, bolted out of the kitchen and into the family room, where I sought solace in front of Captain Kangaroo. Later, we celebrated his birthday at a cabin in the woods, where I lost a balloon up the chimney. It was as traumatic as it sounds. I don’t remember anything else until my fourth birthday.

That I now remember a parent when they were my age is somewhat disconcerting, perhaps because it eliminates that last faint glimmer of true youth. You know what I’m talking about; those glorious post-college years when it’s okay to be “entry level” and live in a house with seven random people; a world in which all of life’s needs can be met using only Craigslist. Given that I described myself as being in my “mid-twenties” until about six months ago, maybe this realization is a needed dose of reality. 

Yes, here we are 30. It sure isn’t what it used to be. They’ve even got a new trendy name for it. As New York Times columnist David Brooks wrote last month, the four traditional phases of life—childhood, adolescence, adulthood and old age—have been replaced by at least six: childhood, adolescence, odyssey, adulthood, active retirement and old age.

“Of the new ones, the least understood is odyssey, the decade of wandering that frequently occurs between adolescence and adulthood,” Brooks wrote, most likely to placate his fellow baby-boomer parents who eye their offspring with nervous optimism.

During this decade, Brooks explained “20-somethings go to school and take breaks from school. They live with friends and they live at home. They fall in and out of love. They try one career and then try another.”

Yep, that pretty much describes it, except for the living at home part. I’d also like to extend “20-somethings” into “early 30-somethings,” but only until I’m done with graduate school. After that is when I move back in with my parents, who as they read this are about 50 percent confident that is a joke.

(I’ve discovered the best way to gauge just how much of an odyssey you’re twenties have been is to count how many shipping addresses you have listed in your amazon.com account. I have eight since 2000. At least two friends of mine may have double that number. We’re nomads for sure.)

Still, I wonder—and fear—whether Brooks is just trying to make excuses for my generation, giving a name to the wanderlust that so many of us fall willing victim to. Odyssey sure does sound better than aimless. But I also think there is a hint of envy in his words. He speaks for a generation that by-and-large married earlier, stayed closer to home and stuck with one career. Far fewer lived independently, and I am curious about what, if any, effect that may have as the baby-boomers approach their golden years.

As far as I can tell, there’s no specific date when these odyssey years are supposed to end, though I can’t shake the feeling that today is one of those artificial benchmarks when decisions must be made. To that I challenge the symbolism of today to take its best shot, hoping that I can effectively dodge all bullets.

So hello thirties and goodbye to my twenties: I promise to celebrate and honor you tonight in the grand tradition of Dia de los Muertos. There will be no sappy nostalgia, no mourning and no regret over things done and not done over the past decade. I’ll save the tears for when I turn 40.

And Dad, just for you, I shaved my goatee last night. For the first time in my life, I’m walking around town today with one killer ‘stache. Let’s hope I don’t scare any three-year-olds.