Worried You Might be Middle-Aged? Take the LUSSO Test
You’re thinking it. ‘Am I now middle-aged?’ Of course you’re not. Or – absolutely you are. How can you tell? Peruse this handy list what I have prepared for your elucidation.
You phone a friend at home after 10pm but worry that it might be too late really…
You actually phone a friend at home. On a landline. He answers.
You stop staying ‘Shall we go to a club,’ and now say ‘I’ll meet you at the club’ i.e. a private drinking and dining establishment and not one that ends with the letters ‘…zy’s’
You find a perverse satisfaction in stacking and emptying the dishwasher. Adding Rinse Aid and salt every so often can be the very essence of nirvana. A sense of satisfaction in a job well done.
You stop looking at the top shelf in newsagents – although you do wonder just how hardcore those freebie DVDs might be – and start buying The Spectator.
You can remember that Wigan won the FA Cup last year (chiefly because I was there and the fuckers beat my team in the final) and can remember every one, including the scorers, from 1972 to 1992 but haven’t a clue what happened after that although Chelsea might have figured a disproportionate number of times.
You’ve started wearing socks in bed. And keeping them on when having sex because, frankly, it’s too much effort to take them off.
Even though you’ve never made anything more adventurous than a lasagne, you secretly covet a set of professional chef’s knives
You find true wisdom in this Billy Crystal speech from City Slickers: “Value this time in your life kids. When you’re a teenager you think you can do anything, and you do. Your twenties are a blur. Your thirties, you raise your family, you make a little money and you think to yourself, ‘What happened to my twenties?’” I mean, really?
You see a 40-something man in Diesel jeans halfway round his arse with one of those key chain things and want to deliver a side kick to his throat. But can’t, as your knee aches a bit.
Also. What’s this obsession with pointy shoes that go up like a court jester?
You think Megan Fox may actually be too young for you.
She was born when you were in the sixth form and, therefore, you are technically old enough to be her father. Just so you know.
You definitely know that Emma Watson is too young for you (she was born in the 90s, for Christ’s sake man)
When meeting people you don’t know in a social environment and they say, ‘And how did you get here?’, you actually know the answer. And you you genuinely want to tell them.
When receiving medication from the chemist, you actually read the leaflet that comes with it and check out the potential side effects.
You seem to be prescribed quite a lot of medication. Some of this is no longer to clear something up. It’s sort of forever.
You’re in the outside lane on the motorway and some hooligan in a Lexus is right up your arse and flashing his lights but rather than tap the breaks, speed off or deliberately slow down, you just pull over and give him the finger. Worse still, you actually hear yourself describe him as ‘a hooligan’.
You have a feeling that you might attend a social media course just to get up to speed. It goes without saying that you know the basics but, a couple of hours one afternoon could be really helpful. You write it down ‘to do’ in your filofax – because, yes, you still use one.
You’ve already been to two second weddings involving one of the people you saw get married the first time and there’s a third on the cards and you’re actually looking forward to it.
You think Drive-By Truckers might be a documentary on the Discovery Channel.
The first time you heard of Mumford and Sons, you thought that they were the delightful chaps that moved you into your place in Gloucestershire.
When you hear them for the first time, you wish they were the delightful chaps etc etc.
That noise you make when you get into or out of a chair… Oh, you didn’t know you were making it? You do. All the time.
Your partner is feeling frisky and wants sex. You could happily oblige. But right now, what you really just want is a cuddle.
You do something that reminds yourself of your father. For the first time ever, this sparks something in you other than revulsion. A small, imperceptible burst of pride.
You’re reading this because you’re in bed before 11pm and a good book will just be too exciting. Turn the light out, grandad, you’ll snap something.