"How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?" - Satchel Paige

I've been dreading today for probably the past two years.  I'm officially twenty, and while I could re-use jokes about beating teen pregnancy, I feel like this is a very dire situation.  "Not So" Young William is seriously concerned.

I'm pretty sure that I lived only three days as a child, but kept repeating them over and over and over and over.  The first consisted of going to the beach with my cousins in the summer, playing Running Bases, building canals in the sand that would always absorb the water before it would actually make it back down to the lake, and acting as a diver for Stu's Rock Store.  The second involved playing 3 innings of tennis ball baseball for the Lakewood Vultures, which always involved an incredible 3rd Inning comeback, going to The Freeze for Ice Cream afterward (except for when I went through my slushie phase.  Why would you ever choose a slushie when you could get a swirl cone?  That's the dumbest thing ever, Young William.  A slushie is just cold juice with small ice cubes.  Soft-serve swirl is heavenly), and then racing (and losing) to Michael on the bike ride home.  The third involved going to school, hanging out with my mom while watching Arthur and Magic School Bus, and then playing for the Lakewood Fighting Egyptians in basement basketball.  Pure domination, mostly because the other team's center had to carry a two year-old Stuart in one arm who would consistently pass the ball to the Egyptians.

Anyway, those were absolutely, positively more fun than reading 50 pages of textbooks every night.  I promise.  I didn't have to worry about employment, I didn't have to worry about school, I didn't have to do anything but focus on my dual-sport athletic career.

But.

Apparently you have to get older (dumb rule).

I've covered childhood fairly extensively before, so I'll try to avoid repeating myself any more than I already have.  As Ben Folds says so eloquently, "Everybody knows it sucks to grow up, but everybody does."  So apparently I have to suck it up and move on.

I've been haunted by this picture for quite some time:

I mean, that's great and all.  Absolutely wonderful.  But does that mean that I have to leave it?  Does that mean that I have to leave my magic, my joy, my childhood in order to give it to my daughter (who looks suspiciously like a blond Susie Derkins)?  I don't think so.  I'm not planning on being an overly controlling father who makes up my own kid's make believe, but I don't see why I have to live in a separate world.  Instead of a hand-me-down, can't it be an introduction, an initiation to the club?

The background on my computer (every other day) is this:

This is much closer to my personal philosophy.  There's too much cool stuff in the world to just give up on pursuing it.  The thing I dislike the most about that first comic is the caption that describes Hobbes as a "childish thing."  I've always viewed Hobbes on a similar level as the bell from Polar Express.  For those who don't want it to be real, it's not, but for those who understand how real and beautiful and incredible it can be, it's the most real thing in the world.  Hobbes is more than a toy, but he's also more than a best friend.  He's Calvin's carefree, imaginative, joyous, clever inner drive.

Growing up is generally associated with ditching the Hobbes (Hobbeses?) of our lives, as is depicted in the first comic.  Why is this the way that it's "supposed" to work?  Why aren't more people encouraged to keep their creativity, their passion, their carefreeness?  Obviously we have to be responsible.  We have to pay mortgages, raise children, work, etc, but we can still seek out adventures.  We can still go exploring.

I recently stumbleuponed this quote from Roald Dahl, also a staple of my childhood. 


“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.”


I was pretty depressed this afternoon and tonight.  I really felt awful.  I felt like it was the end of the ride.  When I started writing this I was planning on it being more reminiscent than anything.  Instead, I'm feeling a lot better.  It doesn't have to end.  I'm going to keep exploring.  I'm going to believe in magic.  I'm going to find magic.  It may be hidden, but the journey is 95% of the fun.  Especially when you bring your Hobbes.