Thursday, October 06, 2011
Just gonna come out and say it...
My birthday is on Sunday. And I am turning 40. FORTY!
Let that sink in for a minute.
...
...
...
...
...
Holy crap, right?
I don't feel anywhere near that old. In some ways I still feel very young. I love the art of Jack Kirby, Yo Gabba Gabba!, movies and books about zombies, and science fiction in general.
But you know what? When I was a teen, I probably would have kept a lot of that to myself. I don't remember high school fondly. I felt awkward and lonely and unpopular. I wanted to fit in. I wanted a girlfriend.
It wasn't until years later I finally realized I have to be myself. The rise in "geek culture" (despite the fact that a good portion of it is due to companies trying to make it hip in order to tap into the geek disposable income) has felt very liberating. I put a graphic novel on my Amazon wish list without hesitation. I wear a T-shirt we made with Muno's face on it proudly. Age brings experience and confidence. And the knowledge that I wasted so much time in my school years fretting over nothing.
This was pre-internet time, folks. I couldn't find forums where I could discuss Doctor Who or Batman. I was a kid in a smallish town that happened to be the home base of Jerry Falwell and the "moral majority." Can you imagine? He fought our cable getting MTV because it was sinful! I went to college in another town, came back for a year, went to get an M.A. in another town, then joined the Peace Corps and went to Africa. That's when I felt like I was finally free. In that small town, I was largely in class with the same people from kindergarten to 12th grade. That's not an exaggeration. All the girls dated older guys. Guys who could drive.
Going thousands of miles away was an adventure on so many levels. No one knew me! I was a blank slate. Kate discusses in her blog post for today the idea of "dropping out."And she is spot-on. Escaping everything I was up to that point in my early mid-20s saved me. I didn't reinvent myself. I just returned accepting the parts of me I had held close to the vest. Having seen a larger part of the world, I returned aware of how much our worldview (and our view of ourselves) is dictated to us by television, advertising, and the government.
I moved to the nation's capital without any job leads. I met an incredible girl through a fellow Peace Corps friend. I went from temping at an art school, to being a glorified receptionist at a foundation, to becoming an editorial assistant in the publication branch of that foundation (and learning all the ropes from a super-demanding boss I was happy to escape but grateful I had worked for), to where I am now (and have been for the past eight years).
As Steve Jobs is quoted on Kate's post:
And this reminds me of a song, so I'll make this a song post! One of my favorite bands is Big Country. One-hit wonders in America, but they made a lot of really good albums that are loved by their fans. Lead singer Stuart Adamson (RIP) committed suicide in 2001. But he could write lyrics that read like poetry. Songs about pride, faith, strength, and belief in yourself. Here's the song I thought of: "Leap of Faith" (a live performance)
I know you have the strength in you
The love to make that leap of faith
The time is right to let it go
Make that simple leap of faith
Sometimes that simple leap of faith makes ALL the difference in the world.
And yeah, I'm about to turn 40!
Let that sink in for a minute.
...
...
...
...
...
Holy crap, right?
I don't feel anywhere near that old. In some ways I still feel very young. I love the art of Jack Kirby, Yo Gabba Gabba!, movies and books about zombies, and science fiction in general.
But you know what? When I was a teen, I probably would have kept a lot of that to myself. I don't remember high school fondly. I felt awkward and lonely and unpopular. I wanted to fit in. I wanted a girlfriend.
It wasn't until years later I finally realized I have to be myself. The rise in "geek culture" (despite the fact that a good portion of it is due to companies trying to make it hip in order to tap into the geek disposable income) has felt very liberating. I put a graphic novel on my Amazon wish list without hesitation. I wear a T-shirt we made with Muno's face on it proudly. Age brings experience and confidence. And the knowledge that I wasted so much time in my school years fretting over nothing.
This was pre-internet time, folks. I couldn't find forums where I could discuss Doctor Who or Batman. I was a kid in a smallish town that happened to be the home base of Jerry Falwell and the "moral majority." Can you imagine? He fought our cable getting MTV because it was sinful! I went to college in another town, came back for a year, went to get an M.A. in another town, then joined the Peace Corps and went to Africa. That's when I felt like I was finally free. In that small town, I was largely in class with the same people from kindergarten to 12th grade. That's not an exaggeration. All the girls dated older guys. Guys who could drive.
Going thousands of miles away was an adventure on so many levels. No one knew me! I was a blank slate. Kate discusses in her blog post for today the idea of "dropping out."And she is spot-on. Escaping everything I was up to that point in my early mid-20s saved me. I didn't reinvent myself. I just returned accepting the parts of me I had held close to the vest. Having seen a larger part of the world, I returned aware of how much our worldview (and our view of ourselves) is dictated to us by television, advertising, and the government.
I moved to the nation's capital without any job leads. I met an incredible girl through a fellow Peace Corps friend. I went from temping at an art school, to being a glorified receptionist at a foundation, to becoming an editorial assistant in the publication branch of that foundation (and learning all the ropes from a super-demanding boss I was happy to escape but grateful I had worked for), to where I am now (and have been for the past eight years).
As Steve Jobs is quoted on Kate's post:
Amen. If I hadn't decided to get off my butt and get student loans and get my master's I wouldn't have seen the flyer for the Peace Corps outside the office of my thesis advisor. If I hadn't joined the Peace Corps I wouldn't have met Laura's college roommate in Africa, so I wouldn't have met Laura two years later through her college roommate, so we wouldn't have gotten married and had our little guy. See? Connecting the dots looking back. I certainly didn't have a plan at the time!
Again, you can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.
And this reminds me of a song, so I'll make this a song post! One of my favorite bands is Big Country. One-hit wonders in America, but they made a lot of really good albums that are loved by their fans. Lead singer Stuart Adamson (RIP) committed suicide in 2001. But he could write lyrics that read like poetry. Songs about pride, faith, strength, and belief in yourself. Here's the song I thought of: "Leap of Faith" (a live performance)
I know you have the strength in you
The love to make that leap of faith
The time is right to let it go
Make that simple leap of faith
Sometimes that simple leap of faith makes ALL the difference in the world.
And yeah, I'm about to turn 40!
# posted by smacky @ 7:58 AM 
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It's just after midnight Eastern time, so ... Happy 40th! (I've been waiting for that for, like, three days.)
Age is just a number -- a number that determines when you can vote, smoke, drink and retire, but still just a number. And you are awesome, no matter how old you are. ;-)
Age is just a number -- a number that determines when you can vote, smoke, drink and retire, but still just a number. And you are awesome, no matter how old you are. ;-)
Happy birthday! I hope it was full of cake and ice cream and happiness.
40 is the new 30, and 30 is the new 25, so really, you and I are the same age.
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40 is the new 30, and 30 is the new 25, so really, you and I are the same age.
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