Inflection point.

By Stout Cortez

Disclaimer: This essay contains Wes Anderson spoilers, I guess, and math references, which maybe is triggering (pun intended). It is not intended for audiences who do not appreciate Bruce Springsteen.

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I’ve been young my entire life. 

The most pointless sentence you’ve ever read, perhaps. We’ve all been young our whole lives, up until a particular point, should we be fortunate enough to reach it — that’s what “being young” means. 

But listen, there’s more to it than that. I was born right before the birth cutoff for my grade and thus the youngest kid in my class. I grew up with a sister two years older, making me the little brother. Throughout my early adulthood, being young was kind of an important part of my whole appeal; it’s been part of my identity, like “being smart” or “being athletic,” and I fear that without it “being snarky” would have been substituted in its place. 

Slowly, all those parts of my identity have been degraded. I’ve found over time that “being smart” just meant good at tests and knowing a few synonyms and African capitals. As the old saying goes, If you’re the smartest person in the room, then you’re in the wrong room. I find myself in a lot of the “right rooms” these days. I’m also physically slower than I once was, and not quite as strong or durable. And here’s the worst part: As I sit here today, I’m the oldest I’ve ever been in my entire life. Perhaps, even, a little bit “not young” anymore.

If I’m honest, things started changing for me at the world-weary age of six, when my little brother was born. That made me a little brother and an older brother. It was the first inflection point I can remember in my life. But now that the answer to the question “am I still young” is a resounding “I dunno, maybe not,” I find myself on the precipice of The Big Inflection Point, wielding all the acquired wisdom, old sayings, and eclectic riddles my dad told me to help me deal with the challenge. Here’s one of those riddles: How long can you walk into a forest? Answer: Halfway, because at that point you are walking out. There comes an inflection point where things change, when you are no longer young, when you are no longer walking into the forest.

The most blatant and unimaginative thesis statement you’ve ever read, perhaps. 

But listen, there’s more to it than that.

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Part One: y = –x^2

Liking Wes Anderson.

This is the sort of thing you do when you’re “wise beyond your years,” like listening to Zooey Deschanel’s music or having a night in with a puzzle and a cat. But is it an age-appropriate, unironic thing you can do into your late 30s before starting to feel a certain way about it?

I’m loyal, so I think yes, it is. Wes Anderson’s great, his films are moving, and taking in art that moves you is sort of the entire point of taking in art.