The Joy of Becoming an Old Couple

It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment. It might have been a year ago. Could have been a few months ago. Maybe it was Thursday night or Friday night.

No matter when it happened, it's true: Bridget and I are officially an old couple.

Why did I call out Thursday night? Bridget and I went to go see The Head and The Heart in Boston on Thursday. (You may not know the band, but they are definitely worth checking out at the link above.) It was, in a word, a young crowd. As we waited in line outside The Royale, it was abundantly clear that we were two of the few people that could drink during the show. We may also have been two of the few people born before 1990. This was, for a moment, depressing.

Why did I mention Friday night? After getting home from a long week of work, where were Bridget and I at 7 p.m. on Friday? A bar? A lively Cambridge restaurant? On the road for a weekend of craziness and debauchery? No. Try napping in bed with Oscar so we could make it out to a friend's place for a couple hours later. Again, for a split second, this was depressing.

Then at work this week, I was chatting with a few of my colleagues. One, an intern from Northeastern, talked about how she'd gone out at midnight the weekend before. Out at midnight? Don't you mean home by 11:30? Other younger, cooler colleagues nodded their heads and talked about how Boston bars should serve alcohol until 2 a.m. and close at 3, rather than just closing up shop at 2. What's the difference? I was in bed three hours ago anyway! De - press - ing.

Now, people who know me are probably not surprised by any of this. In fact, many of them have probably stopped reading, thinking, "Well, no shit, Briddon. You've always been an old man." And, to a degree, it's true. I've always believed those sage words from Ben Franklin: "Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise." In short, I'd rather be up at 6 a.m. than midnight.

Bridget doesn't necessarily subscribe to this same magazine of life. When I first met her, she was a bit of a rabble-rouser. She stayed out late, went out for dinner, like, three times a week (!), and slept in on weekend mornings. Heck, I think she even went dancing every once in a while. Dancing!

The casual observer, then, might say that I changed Bridget, that I aged her. But I don't think this is completely true. I think, and here's the drum roll to the big line, couples make each other old. I also think this is a good thing. It's not even a little bit depressing.

Instead of going out every chance we get, we pick and choose our spots and make them count. We don't typically deal with hangovers, which means we fill our weekend days with stuff like working out, early mornings at Fresh Pond, and nice dinners. And, to be honest, it's way more fun than going out until 2 a.m. It makes us feel more accomplished, more intelligent, and healthier. It makes us feel, well, better.

Plus, be honest: Who has the energy to be young anymore? It sounds exhausting ...