I'm sitting in church and there's a 12-year old kid on
the stand who can't keep his eyes open. He's nodding and blinking heavily, his
head drooping on a cycle because the man at the podium isn't talking about
anything entertaining like Transformers or Legos.
17 years ago, that was me.
For full effect, download "The Times They Are
Changing" by Bob Dylan and play at maximum volume throughout the duration
of this post.
At this moment I'm sitting next to an aged, wrinkled, crazy
old woman. A screwball who’s been asking me since 1997 if I grew two feet since
the last time I saw her, and who was also born right after World War I ended.
She is old, content with life, and the highlights of her day include frozen
yogurt, a glass of Metamucil and a Lifetime movie about the true meaning of
Christmas.
Yes, sometimes there are days when I wish I were an old
woman.
The 12-year old on the stand is wearing a Loony Tunes tie
and has yet to be taught the concept of having a part in his hair. He is at the
point where all the girls in his classroom have a massive case of “the cooties”
meanwhile the highlights of his life include Saturday morning cartoon sessions,
and sugary snacks his Mom leaves out after school. This is a kid who has been
diagnosed with a hefty case of A.D.O.P.
You: “What the heck is A.D.O.P.?”
My Clever Mom: “It’s Attention Deficit, Oh Pretty!”
These two characters are at the polar opposite sides of life’s
calendar, yet they are almost duplicate copies of one another. The only real
difference being the century in which they were born, and a truckload of
wrinkles. They are the same because their lives are so simple, so basic. They
have one job to do: make it from sun up to sun down without dying a horrible
death. That's it. Who cares about responsibility, goals, or tax deadlines? They
don't. All they want to do is just make it through the day without getting hit
by a train or having their pacemaker crash.
Vanessa: "He has a five year plan."
Big Daddy: "What is it, don't die?"
When you’re on opposite sides of puberty and menopause,
you simply don't have to worry. Worry about budget cuts, worry about vegan
diets, worry about work deadlines or presentations. When the concept of a
driver’s license means nothing to you, life is great. You don't have to worry
about how much is in your 401k plan, or how many calories is in that double ice
cream sundae from Dairy Queen, or whether your bowel movement schedule is
regular. The word worry isn't even in your own vocabulary at this point. When
you can literally take a dump in your pants in open public, and people will
just smile at the look on the face you give them in return, you know you're in
the golden years of your life.
The meeting is just about wrapped up now. Both of their
heads are nodding up and down. One by complete and total boredom from the bag
of hot air at the pulpit, the other by minor stages of Alzheimer's. They are in
their own little worlds and they don't care about anything else, life is good. I
know I can never go back to being a 12-year old kid sitting on the stand in church,
but one thing is for sure:
I can’t wait to turn into an old woman.
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