In The Beginning
Well, it all started in a small country called Germany way back in the winter of ‘75. A child was born on a cold December day. The 27th cold December day that month to be exact. And as I recall, that was a particularly cold day. That was the first day I went without clothes right out in the middle of existence. So there I am, hangin by my ankles, cold, shivering, wet, and what does this guy holding me do? Smacks my butt! So I’m hangin, cold, shivering, wet, and now I’m crying too. Welcome to life.
Ahh, The Days Of Youth
So there I was. Growing up. And what better way to do it than by just waiting around getting older. The first five years went by pretty quick. So quickly that I can scarcely recall what it was that I was doing all that time. It is possible that the stress of being born is so, well, stressfull, that the next five or six years are just sort of blanked out to make sure that any and all recollections of the event are gone. Or maybe we are just so busy that we forget we were supposed to remember all that stuff. Better yet, why take the blame when you can blame somebody else. We were never TOLD we were supposed to remember all the kid-like things we were doing. At any rate, the most I remember is that we ended up living in Salt Lake City, Utah. I went to school a few times there (a little into first grade anyway) and then I found myself right in the middle of a desert. Say hello to Arizona.
And Then There Was Puberty
One of the most traumatic moments in life for a young boy is the realization that “Hey, all those Icky Girls are actually kinda cute.” This of course brings on the fear “Am I some kind of freak?” The answer, of course, is “yes.” This is evident by the small explosions that take place all over your face. “What are these now?” you wonder. After all that you’ve been through so far, the hanging, the cold, the weird people, the amnesia, now you have to contend with the Evil Acne Demons. These ghouls straight from the pits (har-har) of hell have but one intention. Ruining your life. They do so by making the Women Of Fair Skin cringe and laugh at you. They stand by their lockers with their other Creators of Humiliation and point at you. It makes you wonder if maybe you were right back in grade school, girls are Icky.
Hey, Now I Can Drive, Too
After a while (approximately 3 years, or until your Junior year in high school) the Acne Demons begin to recede and your real face is able to peak out from behind it’s mask. And just in time too, because here comes your first Driver’s License Photo. A small price to pay for the right to drive a car. Freedom, the world is open, you have no limits, you have no boundry’s, you have no…..money. Now you’re out of gas and you are stuck at home again. So you borrow a few bucks from your mom and you go find a job. “Cool,” you say “now I’ve got money!” And that’s true, you have the money, you have the car, and you have the job. The Job. So now that you have the car, the money with which to propell it and you into the unknown, but you have lost the first glory the car gave you, freedom. Oh well, at least you are meeting new and interesting people and having exciting conversations with them. The kind of discussions that tweak the limits of your pre-graduate brain. Topics such as “Paper or plastic” and advanced mathematics like “You Get How Much Change From Your $20?” One other fact hits you, those darned Icky Girls are laughing at your silly little apron now. but maybe that one on the left isn’t so much as laughing as she is just smiling. Could it be? Is she winking at me? Your heart speeds up, you forget that some really huge guy with a karate uniform on is standing in front of you demanding that you give him the correct change for his 20 and that he said paper, damnit, not plastic.
From Here On Out
At this point in life, you realize that the best days are probably the ones you can’t remember, but you’re not sure. And when that Icky Girl from the grocery store comes up to talk to you, you realize that maybe the good days are just beginning. And you’re right. “From here on out,” you think to yourself as she tells you about her ex-boyfriend and how they just broke up “this is what it’s gonna be. Just me and her. This is what all the hassle was about. Man, it was worth it!”Until…..
THIRTYsomething
By this time the novelty of love has worn off, and you look back on that first relationship with a nostalgic little smile on your face. You’ve done some child rearing, you’ve got a house payment, a water bill, an electric bill, a lawn that needs to be mowed, and you can’t even remember what it was like to NOT have a job. You’ve been to funerals and weddings, bailed a friend out of jail, and been in court for one reason or another. You read the newspaper and watch David Letterman. Your car tuner has smooth jazz and news/talk radio dialed in. You pay attention to politics and traffic reports, calories and carbs. Your drink of choice has changed from “anything alcoholic” to “anything diet”. The car that once provided you with the means to live free now provides you with the means of getting the groceries home. Your recent break-up has finalized and you spend your nights parked in front of the television laughing uproariously at mediocre movies. Then you realize you’re laughing because for the first time in a long time, you are happy, and truly free.
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