Monday, September 30, 2013

When to Call Yourself a Grownup

I've always said that no matter how old I'm getting, I still feel like a child.  I don't have to wonder any more whether my parents felt the same way at my age.  I don't even have to ask them.  We all do.  Except, maybe, that select few who have never had a monster under their bed or in their closet.  We all know an exception or two.  The rest of us may ponder the question: "when exactly are we to call ourselves grown ups?"  I don't think there is any simple answer.  However, this morning I had an experience that lead me to believe I may actually be a grown up and I'm hoping it will help you realize the same.  


Did you ever have to stay at home alone when you were younger?  Nowadays I'm sure that's unheard of but those of you who have experienced the fear of being home alone can surely relate to what I'm talking about.  You'll probably remember a certain time when you were there in that big old house by yourself in broad daylight with no dark corners for monsters or demons to hide in.   Nevertheless you hear a strange noise and you immediately imagine the worst!  That THING inside the walls that you're certain has been after you since you were eight years old finally comes out to get you!  Maybe that disturbingly gigantic, freakish one-eyed cat down the street made its way into your house looking for food but decides a eight year old boy will suffice.  You get the point.

Well today I was home alone and had two different Pandora Radio stations going in each room to keep me motivated.  I have 80's hairband rock going in the living room and my studio has  a much more laid back blues station going.  Neither are very loud.  Just enough to offer a change of scene.  I imagine it as if I'm walking down Bourbon Street from venue to venue.  Anyhow, I thought I would sit in the Blues Room and sip on my coffee when I heard a sound as if someone climbed through a window and knocked over a plant and then quickly got upon his/her/its feet and then attempted to find me (the victim).  At least that's the image I quickly dismissed in my mind and then said to myself, "Nah."  It took me a matter of three whole seconds to figure out the wind picked up, blew over a nearly empty dish liquid bottle into the sink which landed on a plastic fork sending it across the room.  My heart didn't even skip a beat.  Now none of this is really profound but I realized then and there that I would have to actually see a witch, goblin, burglar etc. crawling through my window to become even slightly amused while home alone in broad daylight.  I was almost saddened by this dullness that I've grown accustomed to.  At the same time though, I realized then and there that because of that very reason I can now call myself a grown up.  So the next time you are unaffected by a strange bump in the night (or day), I hope you will use that experience as a hint, just as I did, towards knowing how utterly uneventful and un-frightning the world actually is when peering through the eyes of a grownup.