Turning another year older has never bothered me. I have something of a childlike soul. My friends are fond of calling that “arrested development,” but that’s just because they’re big mean stupidheads.
In seriousness, I’m simply not all that good at “adulting,” as the internet would say, and the accompanying inability to envision the future means I can’t fathom any need for that to change.
That doesn’t mean I don’t take care of my responsibilities. I do. It just means that, given the choice between organizing my day planner, watching the news, and going to bed vs. staying up till 3 a.m. watching Adventure Time and playing Arkham Knight, I’m going to be doing that second thing.
As such, my most recent birthday has put me in mind of all the things I swore as a kid I was going to have when I got old enough that I still, for some reason, do not have.
For instance, a trampoline. If you had a trampoline and I visited you as a child, chances are good you had to physically remove me from it more than once. I’d even settle for a quick fix if you had one of those of the miniature-exercise variety. Not only did I intend to own one by now, I intended to own a floor-to-ceiling room of them.
Then there was a house with a banister I could slide down. An A-frame cottage in the woods. A crow. A circular swimming pool that would accommodate Busby Berkeley-esque choreographed water routines. A French casement window with a seat where I could read while I waited on Peter Pan. An outdoor shower. Saturday Night Live.
Obviously some goals are more attainable than others (you’ve been warned, Lorne Michaels). It’s perhaps those we should try to revisit as often as we can.
I also always wanted an autographed picture of Jareth, the Goblin King from the film Labyrinth, as a small child. That’s who I thought David Bowie was until I was a few years older and discovered his staggering music catalogue. The guy on MTV performing Blue Jean? Jareth, dressed a bit differently. Singing The Little Drummer Boy with Bing Crosby? Jareth, out of makeup.
My mother never knew of that particular life goal, but Friday night, for my birthday, she presented me with an autographed photo of David Bowie. As Jareth.
I was instantly a child again, and, although with a twinge of sadness in light of recent events, it was – fittingly – nothing short of magic.
So take the time, every now and again, to remember the things, both simple and delightfully impossible, that were your heart’s desires as a child. If they’re feasible, chase after a few. I guarantee you’ll feel light as a feather.
And if not, you’re welcome to come experience the same sensation in my Trampoline Room.
editor@artesianews.com
