Paging Mrs. Robinson

I fear I’m in real danger of becoming a dirty, old woman.

It’s somehow not quite as creepy as being a dirty old man, but still.

I don’t like it one little bit.

And I blame John Mayer.

John Mayer, the singer, is my guilty pleasure. I’ve loved him for a while now, even though he is eight years younger than me. He seems so mature and I look good for my age, so I convinced myself I could fit in with his rock star friends. I convinced myself the age gap was nothing—we were all practically contemporaries!

But the other day while perusing a celebrity gossip Web site I came to the startling conclusion that John is practically an elder statesman when it comes to contemporary musicians. In fact, pretty much the entire crop of young hotties these days is entirely out of my league when it comes to age. (I know, I know, not just age, but let’s just stick with age for now, m’kay?)

Pete Wentz of Fallout Boy? Ten years younger than me. Justin Timberlake, twelve years younger than me. Chris Brown—that little hottie who’s all over the radio? Gulp—eighteen years younger than me! Yes, that’s right. I am old enough to be Chris Brown’s mother.

When did this happen? I may have had to modify my dreams of Olympic glory but my vision of myself as a young ingénue, and potential rock star girlfriend, is one I hold even more dear.

And yet it is seems even that dream is starting to crumble.

Mostly I blame Pamela Anderson. (See how I let John off the hook there—I can’t stay mad at him!)

Pam is a fellow Canadian and pretty much a professional rock star girlfriend/wife. While she has never personified feminine beauty for me, for years a lot of people considered her to be the hottest of the hot. And that made me feel awfully good about myself, considering she is two years and two months older than me. Knowing that definitely helped convince me that John and I had a shot.

But lately Pamela Anderson is blowing it for both of us. She’s not aging well. She’s morphing from sexpot to caricature and all of a sudden she’s starting to look like someone who is trying way too hard to hang onto her youth. She’s starting to look like someone who is just a tad too old for the skimpy outfits she’s always wearing.

She’s starting to look like someone who is probably too old to date John Mayer. And if she’s too old to date John Mayer, then I probably am too.

But you know what? I still would. In fact, if I weren’t married I would also be happy to accept a date with Pete Wentz. And Justin Timberlake. And if he asked nicely, maybe even Chris Brown.

And that’s why I fear I’m in real danger of turning into a dirty, old woman.