If you wonder whether if you’re still young - then you’re not. It’s possible that if it’s something that concerns you then you might well never have been. Not really. I used to roughly consider it that when you can legally sleep with someone half your age, you’re middle-aged. If you’re having to work it out then put your fingers down and accept that even if that is not the case, hey, middle-aged.
I’ve known for ever such a long time that I’m not young any more. Hell, I never made it out of my twenties before I hit the acceptance and not because I had ever worn a tie as a bandana nor ever thought to ask what wine a given pub might serve? Still no to either. But when I was young well hell, I knew it and had a lot of fun doing it. Because it is a do, not a be, really.
But there’s a better way to tell if you’re middle-aged than all this. Simply go to your local supermarket, park or flyover whereby kids with skateboards show off or share illicit ciggies, probably legal cider and a certain amount of hair products. Ask them if you’re young. Because the things is this; the people to decide if you’re young, are the young.
Also the Sandmen. And it’s been a long time since your palm flower darkened.