Time Ain’t Forever
We all know this, right? It’s an inevitable truth that younger generations are deluded into thinking doesn’t apply to them. I recently had the unfortunate luck of scrolling on Instagram and came upon a post from a user who apparently found the fountain of eternal youth. More importantly, they stood ten toes down on the belief that anyone over the age of 35 should only exist at home, living out their Greta Garbo era.
Ageism has always been a thing in our society. Just watch any hit television show, movie, or ads selling anything mediocre. Many feature individuals who would struggle trying to figure out how a rotary phone works. People are obsessed with youth in a way that almost seems questionable. As it pertains to SGL men, that sentiment is amplified by Gen Z clout chasers who act as if they’re not on the road to being where many of us Millennials and Gen Xers already exist—peacefully.
This particular user of note was speaking on men of a certain age who were out and about enjoying Atlanta’s infamous Black Pride. He was perplexed as to why these men were so pressed to be partying with young folks aged 18 to 25. Naturally, the post sparked a spirited debate from those either agreeing or challenging his thought process from their lived experiences.
The younger supporters pointed out it was pathetic to see mature men in the clubs. Some were tired of being hit on by the Uncs who, in their minds, were past their prime. All of these comments seemed to settle on the notion that life and the pursuit of proverbial happiness end after a certain age. To the gentlemen who’ve lived a little—well, they had a different perspective that the poster was too lazy to research or understand.
Happiness does not have an expiration date, nor is it delegated only to the young.
Men who lived through “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”, the AIDS epidemic, and a time where legally marrying your significant other was out of the question, provided a nuanced response that some of the ‘nephews’ ignored. Pride was born out of the need for community. A coming together of sorts for men at the intersection of race and sexual orientation. It was the chance to be seen in a world where we were meant to be invisible.
So many Millennials and Gen Xers were young men when our gatherings consisted only of private homes, fire-hazard clubs, and nondescript warehouses converted into safe havens. Not to mention there was no such thing as social media. To say we dodged that bullet in our twenties is an understatement.
We remember the ‘IT’ boys who somehow disappeared out of the blue because of illness. We’ve witnessed iconic nightclubs wither out of existence with little to no fanfare because of gentrification. Through it all, there was one thing that always remained—us.
Pride, regardless of when or where it’s celebrated, has always been about the people. The friendships that have withstood the test of time. The brotherhood of men who always had each other’s back when it mattered—even if we weren’t always nice to each other. We knew that at the end of the day, it’s us against them.
I challenge the accuracy of claims that there are a slew of old heads clamoring to get in nightclubs like it’s the latest drop of the iPhone 17. Many of us have elevated our way of celebrating Pride—which our younger brethren should aspire to. As we age, the desire for fun and brotherhood is still paramount. Happiness does not have an expiration date, nor is it delegated only to the young.
Pride for many mature men is an opportunity to remember those who sacrificed their lives so the rest of us could thrive openly and authentically. It also allows us to see each other and partake in laughter and libations while leaving the problematic world behind. We’ve fought too damn hard to remain in the background. In a world where multiple generations are existing all at once, social media has allowed us to view each other’s thoughts and opinions—even if they’re wildly misguided and rooted in ignorance.
The good thing is, visibility beyond the age of 40 should not be admonished, but seen as what’s possible for today’s younger generation when the strobe lights stop spinning. It’s a window into the future of how to evolve beyond your twenty-something hot boy era.
The question from that young man should not have been why are older men still in the club, but rather why are they looking and dressing better than us while doing it? Unlike those coming up behind us, we did find the fountain of youth. It came from drinking from water hoses and exfoliating with mud pie facials in the backyard.
