White hair chronicles VI

My son Vito turned 13 yesterday, formally making him a teenager, and thus further making me a tatang-ager. That is double jeopardy, being a tatang and an ager, suddenly I feel doubly old. When I was 13 myself, my father was a boyish 35. He was what some would call today "papa-ble". Whatever that means, it doesn't describe me now - grandfatherish on the wrong side of 40s. In fact many think I am Vito's grandfather.

The saving grace is I don't 'feel' old at all. Sure an elbow aches, DeQuervain's syndrome acts up on my right wrist - 12 years after my left wrist was operated on for the same reason, isolated white hairs grow on places where no hair grew before, and of course, 95% of the hair is white. But I definitely feel young. I can relate to what Vito likes and he can relate to what I enjoy. It helps that retro (emo?) fashion is in. It helps that he also appreciates the music I enjoy.

But retro fashion or not, only external appearances seem old. I still have the same idealism I had in my teens. The teenage angst back then is eerily the same as Generations Jones' anxieties today. But of course! The teenagers of old comprise the Generation Jones. Furthermore we had Marcos then, we have Gloria now. Same difference really. Even if some have moved to the other side of the fence, like administration apologist Alex Magno and GMA spokesman Gary Olivar.

So, has Philippine life gone full circle?
Or, have we moved at all?