I wasn't the only cockroach that crawled out of the woodwork to enjoy the day. In fact, multiple creatures left hibernation to walk the docks and to listen to live music. Some of them even wore clothes.
As natural, the group I was with began making observations of the specimens who were also in attendance to enjoy the day. It was way too easy to make comical observations and remarks, which happened rather quickly - it was hard not to be ethnographers at this site.
Yet, suddenly, four of the women at our table did something I've never seen before. They did a pinky swear for aging.
Promise we will never dress like that when we're in our sixties. Kill me if I ever wear Spanky shorts if I get over 300 pounds. Don't ever let me wear heals that high in my 70's. Keep me from tattoos. Please let me know that others won't talk about us in the way that we're talking about those we're seeing.
I asked if I could get their agreement on camera and they agreed.
I didn't have the heart to say, however, that it is more likely than not that we, too, will fall into the eccentric, whacky, and odd adult behavior of looking ridiculous when we're in our second 50 years.
I realized at that moment that it's impossible to be cool any longer. We've already crossed over and are no longer in the heyday of our twenties (or thirties)(or even forties). Alas, it happens to the best of us.