In which I briefly cover what’s expected of me, and then talk for real

There are actually some good guys in the world. I mentioned two the day before yesterday. And there are many others of my acquaintance. My Dad is one, happy Father’s Day to him.

But because it vaguely annoys me when people  make public Father’s Day cards, on Facebook for example, I’m not going to say more than that. Don’t ask me why it bothers me, I really couldn’t tell you myself. Maybe it’s just because I personally like to keep the words of praise I receive to myself. Then I know that the person who’s saying the words is doing it for my benefit, and not so that other people can see how nice they’re being to me. Because Father’s Day ought to be something personal, I think it should be kept on a person-to-person level, and not broadcasted to the world.


When I was a kid, I thought there ought to be a Children’s Day if there was going to be a Father and a Mother’s Day. Nobody could give me a satisfying reason why such a day didn’t exist. I remember one of the replies I got was “every day is a Children’s Day.” It seemed to me then, and it seems to me still now, that adults have a rather idealized view of childhood. Some of them laugh at the kid who wants to grow up. I don’t know, I guess I don’t take the Peter Pan view of things. But then, I always did grow up faster than most of my peers.

Now admittedly, I don’t know quite what it’s like to be an adult yet. I mean, technically I am an adult, and I living somewhat independently at the moment. But I still have some growing up to do and these days I get the feeling that if ever there was a time of life more idealized than childhood it’s young adulthood. And I do think I’m more happy and content at this time in my life than any other I have experienced. Who knows what the future will hold?

Occasionally I wonder what it’s like to be an old person. I mean, you hear about the aches and pains, and loneliness, and watching your friends and family leave you. But every once in a while I wonder if there is some sort of special pleasure one gets from being an old person, perhaps from being so wise. Honestly, it’s frustrating sometimes for us young people to be so naive. We have a lot of decisions to make, and we wish we could be more assured of ourselves and our judgement, you know? We really do admire even envy the level of confidence people have in their wisdom as they get older.


As for me, I think there’s an old lady inside my head just waiting to come out. I think there’s a kid up there too, who never did go away and never will go away. She’ll keep the old lady young at heart. In the meantime, I think they’re both going to laugh at me while the I– the young woman– try to sort things out.


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