I came to the realization that I’m finally growing up. One of the many indicators that I’m getting old is that I didn’t say “Duuuude. I’m friggin’ old.” It’s six and a half years since I graduated high school and while I have yet to get a degree, I’m still working at it. Just so you know I’m not planning on being a career student, I’ve changed majors five times, and my parents only paid for four years, past that I’m paying for school on my own, no financial aid, no scholarships. On the bright side, with all the money I’ve given to the University they should be naming a building after me.

Despite being held back I find myself feeling more aged. Maturity is not sitting well with me. For example, I’ve finally come to the time of life where all my friends are either married or engaged. I suppose technically I don’t have any friends. I mean I have friends, it’s not like it was in junior high. It’s just now a days, all my friends are joint custody shared with my fiancée. I feel like such a slacker as I’m only betrothed and my entire circle of friends either are married, bought a house, have kids or some combination of the above.

I don’t party like I used to. So fewer hangovers, but it’s sad to say I don’t recall the last time I was at a party where someone was so drunk I could convince them the Hamburgler stole their pants. On the plus side of growing up, humor becomes easier. Just mention 80’s music, Voltron or Darkwing Duck and the rest writes itself. Also you appreciate things you couldn’t have when you were younger. For example, former teen queen Tiffany posing in Playboy. When she was popular, I knew I wanted to see her naked but I was too young to know why. Now that I’m older and more mature, I know why. Like wine and cheese, Tiffany has aged well.

I’ve also gone through the big life altering changes that we all must go through eventually. Not puberty, but where you finally decide it’s time to start looking adult, like it or not. So you get the adult hair cut. For me that meant going from a shoulder length rebel pony tail, to just below the ear, vaguely resembling the hairstyle of Olympic Skater Apollo Anton Ohno. To some people it wouldn’t be a big deal, but I was uneasy, as my hair hadn’t been that short since I was a freshman in high school. Which, of course, made me feel that much older as that was a decade ago.

Next comes the wardrobe update. I find myself wearing shirts to work with collars and non-flannel. I feel like such a sell out to all my high-school ethics, which were more or less “If anyone else would wear this … ever … then I can’t wear it.” But I have taken the whole thing seriously. I bought a few button up shirts, none of which are Hawaiian print, pants that aren’t jeans and have less then 6 pockets and even brown shoes. You know you’re a “grown-up” if you own brown shoes.

Over all, I think the change of wardrobe is a good thing, as the last deliberate complete overhaul to my wardrobe was in seventh grade when I switched from jeans to wearing nothing but MC Hammer pants. Monday though Friday was all Hammer pants. Mainly because this prevented me from having to change clothes for gym class and getting beat up in the locker room. Actually I did have another major wardrobe change in high school when I stopped wearing Hammer pants so I wouldn’t get beat up.

The point of my article is to say this: Thank You MC Hammer, for being a passing fad that just so happened to coincide with my junior high school years when I had to change clothes for gym class. You saved me from countless wedgies and wet willies, when you said “Please Hammer, don’t hurt them.” I know what you really meant. I know you’re bankrupt, but you made a difference in my life and in the end, isn’t that what you really wanted to do? Make a difference in peoples lives? I know I can’t touch this, but you touched my life.