I photographed a punk show the other night and I think the average age in the crowd was about fifteen and a half. Everyone had a big black X on their hand and the bar was a ghost town. I started wondering if any of them went to the junior high down the street and were the ones who walk in the street and won’t move for cars and throw trash and … I nearly shouted out loud “Damn kids! Get off my lawn!”
I’m not always particularly happy about getting older – mostly because I don’t know when the end is – but I think I’ll like that it gives me a good excuse to be cranky.