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The Feeling to be “Old School”

It all started with a night out in DC10 8 years ago, when I was asked two questions in a short timespan, not using the usual ‘do you know where…’ as you talk to your own kind but the over polite ‘do you know where…’ as you talk to a respectable person – well, you don’t have this differentiation in English, you either call the other by his first name or you say ‘you’, which still doesn’t mean you consider the other your buddy – so it’s a bad example (again, only in English) but you might get my point: The first one was a boy around 20 asking me if I knew they’d sell tobacco in here, the other one a girl not much older, asking me if I knew where the toilets were. In an instant I felt about 15 years older, an odd feeling of belonging to an unseeded species whilst being totally out of place amongst young people enjoying themselves started creeping up my spine. A split-second ago I was part of it – at least for the last 20 years – or was it mere illusion and I was hanging on to something that was long gone for me? One thing was for sure – I was totally confused and left the club…

My Grandad always said ‘in 10 years you will laugh about whatever happened to you’ and he was right, he was always right and still is, period. Period. So nowadays when I go to a club I still love it but it doesn’t feel the same any more. Guess that is a good thing, if not we’d all go clubbing forever – no offence, not a bad idea but when you turn 50 – as I will do this year – your preferences undergo some major maintenance and, if all systems run smoothly and your anti-virus-software is updated, you should start to perceive time in a different way, cherish each moment in a more conscious way – obvious things become not-so-obvious and vice versa. Gosh, I sound like my Grandad… About clubbing – the key to success was, is and always will be to choose wisely where to go and when to let lose – just as in life itself .

Next sign is I find myself looking after 12 social media accounts and one homepage – guess that is what you call an ‘admin’ nowadays. Seriously, twelve social media accounts, some for magazines, some for music, some for pictures and some to tweet like a (humming) bird about what is so fucking interesting that everybody needs to know it immediately, simultaneously, multi-tasking 24/7 with a blend-a-dent smile knowing you can change the world with a wipe… not. At all. Talking about wiping, my smartphone (this is NO product placement but I am so in love with my old iPhone 4 and no, I never update my iOS, period. Period.) does NOT have my mailbox installed and I refuse to use (ref-use, hmmmm interesting…) the internet on my phone. One reason behind this ruthless rebellion is that it is my job as a journalist to look into a screen several hours a day so I already AM online most of the time, the other – and very much more important – reason is that the time left really IS precious and I don’t want to waste it with socialising, period. Period. By the way, did you ever find a real, I mean REAL friend via the internet? Because if I would just say ‘online’ it sounds different – as if you don’t have to meet in person any more – YES YOU DO. You can’t go clubbing with a friend online – can you? And don’t tell me that watching a Youtube video of the last What-So-Ever-Festival whilst on Skype together is somewhere near getting lost together in a club dancing your soles away. Or a simple hug between friends – impossible online. Download a beer? Come on… Sex? Gotcha!

My little brother once told me whilst talking about his excess weight that he thinks about a liposuction – no, seriously, as if it would be the most normal and trivial thing to do in that case – simple solution, no harm done, no sweat, no tears, no exercise… ‘No offence bro, but you did get your ass up and started working that booty’ – after I told him what I think about his flash of genius. It is fucked up enough to go to a fitness gym on a running machine when you live anywhere but in the centre of any city instead of taking them walking shoes to a decent trip through nature – btw., this is what they were made for – but to hurt your body sucking out fat with a syringe after you mistreated it in the first place is no flash of genius, it is just dumb and blind – oh, and ignorant too. Cause-n-Effect would be the right term to use here I guess, coming in handy with a nice double value – not only do you lose weight but you think twice on what and when you eat – so to say a win-win situation by definition.

About Andi Hofer

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