Perspective

I had an experience the other day that got me thinking. I was walking to my apartment after work and across the street ahead of me was a group of kids in their early teens screwing around and heading, generally in the same direction as I was going. It was a mix of 3 girls and 4 boys. I saw one of the boys pretend like he was going to lift the shirt up on one of the girls. He was not even close to serious about it and was easily 12 to 14 inches from even touching her. She said “It won’t matter, I’m wearing a bikini top underneath!” to which he (because he’s a guy) replied “I’ll still see ‘em!” No one seemed off put from this exchange and the group didn’t even stop its casual northern movement up the street.

Being that I’m easily a foot and a half taller then any of these kids I caught up with them and moved to the outside of the side walk in order to pass them without slowing down. Once the kids noticed me and saw I was heading in their direction the group came to an immediate halt most of them with their faces aimed at their sneakers looking like cats covered in canary feathers. One of the kids said “Hello Mister.” I said hello. Another kid asked for a high five so I gave him one. He joked about having his arm torn off. Everyone laughed; I smiled as I moved on past them.

As I made my way to my apartment, I reflected on being that age and hanging out with my friends. I tried to imagine how they perceived me. I’ve been told I can be an intimidating individual and my normal facial posture is sometimes confused with a look of anger or disapproval. Did they think I was going to scold them or something? They probably thought I was a mature adult and wouldn’t appreciate their “Tom-Foolery.” Little do they know I saw almost the same scene happen in a bar a few weeks earlier with people twice their age! I see myself as a young guy still trying to get the hang of this whole “adult life” thing I living. I get together with my friends and laugh, play games, tell jokes and stories way, WAY worse then these kids have ever experienced. I astound myself with my immaturity at times. I even joked about this situation on Facebook! FACEBOOK!!

How am I even remotely an adult? I’m a walking disaster of confusion and insecurity. I’m like a teenager without the acne, wondering what’s going to happen tomorrow or if there is even going to be a tomorrow! I wake up every morning panicked about everything I have to do in the teeny tiny amount of time I have on this planet. Constantly wondering if I’m going to walk my road alone or with someone by my side; whether or not I want to start a family. Who will notice when I’m gone.

Then I do the math and realize I started working at my current job before any of those kids were born.

Whoa!

I could, in fact, be any one of those kids’ dads!

WHOA!!

Talk about a reality shot!

I stop and take a breath. Look everything over and decide that it’s because of all of those things that I am an adult. Being a teenager was something that ended for me almost 17 years ago when I turned 20. Most of what I can remember from those years was a deep desire to get the hell out of school and start working for a living mixed with a mild panic about not knowing what I wanted to do for the rest of my life and a keen interest in girls I didn’t have the confidence to talk to. Time didn’t seem to be as big a deal as it is to me currently. Nowadays, I seem to feel Every. Grain. Of. Sand. Slip through my fingers. There are many things I can attribute my chronological hyper-awareness to but it doesn’t matter. In the end, I don’t want to end up feeling like I wasted my time here so I try to do what ever I can think of doing. There are plenty of arguments about how to best utilize ones life and I’m not going to delve into that ocean of pontification. I’m always open for a discussion about these things but here is not the place for it. Here is just a place for me to babble about the racket that ricochets within my brain.

So have I gained anything from this experience? Have I discovered the differences in the perception of me? Have any of the last 800 words made a difference in anything.

Probably not.

Those reading this may have their opinions of me swayed a bit but I don’t expect anyone’s’ life will be changed for better or worse. This is not new ground for my inner dialogue either. I sometimes contemplate how the cover of my book is read by others. I can sometimes be consumed by self-consciousness. But today, I just think to myself “Hmm..that was interesting.”