8/18 - There Will Be Babies

I see you, high school drama kids.  I see you gathered as your happy little family on the couch while the lame old adults sit outside. I remember being where you are right now.  No, not on the couch, unless we're making a time metaphor out of the very real, non-metaphorical couch.  Actually, maybe we should do that.

You're going to graduate - in one year from now, two, maybe three.  There will be more shows, more cast parties, and plenty of laughter and camaraderie focused around that couch.  Then, you'll walk across that stage and take your fake diploma (keep your grades up to get the real one!), there might be one or two more drama parties in the summer, and then you'll all get off of that couch - literally and metaphorically.  

Life will take everyone lots of places.  The three people who always seemed to get leads will all major in something besides theatre.  Two to five of you will stick to the performing world.  Any of those choices are okay (here's where I say follow your heart)!  People will go to college, join the Peace Corp, get married, study abroad and stay in Europe, stay put and work at the local grocery store, join bands, move one city over, and on and on.  

But nothing will prepare you for that drama kid party you get invited to 5 or 6 years later.  You won't recognize most of the faces - the freshmen you knew have all graduated by now, too.  Your stomach will feel upset later from too much sugar (I know, a tragedy).  You will enjoy seeing old friends and hearing about what they're doing.  Most people you remember won't show up, but a few will.  These things, however, are all manageable to bear as you revisit that old couch.

But I warn you: there will be babies.

And nothing can prepare you, or the couch, for babies.

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*Side note, I love babies!  I want my own someday!  But when they're involved with old high school memories, things just get to feeling.... old.  ;)

Climbing Up the Slide

Today, riding the N into downtown SF, I saw two kids attempting to climb up the twisty slide at the Duboce Park playground.  They were both two-thirds of the way there, though as I watched, the little girl of the pair was about to lose her grip of the metallic rim while the little boy tried to squirm past her.  C'mon, you can do it! I caught myself thinking.  I was rooting so hard for these kids to make it!  As the train began to pull away, I saw them heave themselves forward, landing on the platform above them in a laughing heap.  I was so proud.

Then I began to wonder, why is it that kids reach a point where the easy route isn't as fun anymore?  Why do we feel the need to try and climb the slide backwards?

I can't say that I came up with a definitive answer.  I think that there are people who prefer to just use the slide "the way it was meant to be used."  It's safer that way; still thrilling at times and yet it results in a comfortably predictable sensation, once you know how to use it.  And sometimes conquering the fear of going down the slide is one of the biggest parts of a life.  Who could imagine trying to go backwards up something that they just learned to face in doing the right way?!

But I was one of the backwards climbers.  And when crawling up it wasn't enough, I got into the rebellious "running up the slide" phase, trying to keep up with my cousin Jake.  I didn't always make it, but when it worked, there was that giddy rush of accomplishment that makes you ride down the right way and then attempt to run up the slide again.

I've picked a career (read: lifestyle) that will pretty much always involve climbing up the slide, as opposed to an easy ride down.  And at many times, even getting two-thirds of the way to the top can feel like the fight of a lifetime that you're about to lose your grip on.  But that final push to the platform is what does it; the triumph of making it, standing at the top, is the best feeling -- being on top of your playground, your world.

I climb up the slide because the view from the top is always best when I've earned it.