What’cha Gonna Do When You Grow Up?

 

In these days of gloomy wet winter weather, to vax or not to vax, mask or no mask, Keyev or Keev, super powers with the big toys in a showdown not to each other but over a border buffer, the cooties still floating around, winter Olympics on fake snow, truckers clogging up and shutting down convoy, prices going up, supply going down, commute to work and zoom at home, go to school or see the teacher through the screen, while the news suggest the best movie, music and other entertainment between advertisements, the loser former president won’t stop talking and people keep paying attention, where hospitals are filled up and medical aid is fading, elderly surviving rock stars get darker hair, feminists shake their booty on social media, votes are still being counted and lines being drawn, action films are gory, daily shootings at defenseless houses of worship or wherever people gather, medical diagnosis on Google and laundry, dishes, showers, taxes and haircuts can wait until tomorrow creates such boredom that you turn to searching names on the Internet.

During these down-times in life, there is more to remember than to look forward to. So the thought came about how we got here.

When we are growing up there is always someone to tell us what to do, where to go, what to wear, what to eat, when to get up and when to go to sleep. At a certain age, we were all herded into rooms filled with others of the same age to be educated. We are fed what is acceptable by the school board and the school district and tested to see if we were listening. We got samples of basic music, art, history, geometry, English, arithmetic while in a social environment. Teachers and parents conferred on interest shown to perhaps expand on what could become monetary worthy employment.

The question comes up. What’cha gonna do when you grow up?

At that age the answer is Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief, Astronaut, Superhero, Nurse, Secretary, Quarterback, Cheerleader, General, Nuclear Scientist, Cowboy, Mobster, Bartender, Convict or Skid-row Bum?

Then those who influence you guided you toward the activities and studies that will fulfill your wishes so by the time of your leaving public education it has been decided whether you will attend higher learning or apply to a trade.

Once we break free of reading, writing and figuring out GPA, the time has come to make the decision. Check the help wanted pages in the newspaper? Get a low level job in your father’s office? Wait tables, drive taxis, clean bathrooms to make enough to pay the rent until you figure it out?

If you want to be a racecar driver but can’t get a job around the track, do you become a mechanic at the local filling station in hope of a break? If you join the armed forces do you apply to drive a truck or work the chow line instead of walking with a rifle? If you get employment in a career that you decide you don’t like, do you turn to your hobby to form a start-up? Do you work in one occupation or bounce from one to another?

When you get to this age, you have time to look back. How did you get here? Is this what you had in mind when you were ‘growing up’? Are you proud of the accomplishment or have any regrets?

This time of remembrance of a time when you had to walk into a building called a bank and wait in line to hand your dollars and coins to a teller who would add them up on a adding machine then write the total in a book and stamp it to verify you have that money in the vault. To get your money back you had to use the same process as long as it was before 3PM. These were the times when milk was being delivered to the front door next to the newspaper, the times when the supermarket had two selections of soup, the butcher knew you by name, the cashier had to add every item and call out to the back if she couldn’t read the label. These were the times when driving up at the filling station, an attendant would come out of the garage, wash your windscreen, check your oil and tire pressure, fill the tank and take your money and bring back change with some green stamps without you having to leave the auto. These were the times when police looked like elevator operators and everyone followed their instructions. These were the times when ambulances would lay you on a gurney and roll you into a white station wagon and deliver you to the hospital where the emergency aid was done. These were the times where everyone lined up to get their shots because it was the American way that had been taught during the war and we all complied. These were the days when cowboy pistols never ran out of bullets and the bad guys headed to boot hill would pop up in the next serial with a different hat as a new guy.

Think about friends and family and how they succeeded. Did they plan on raising a family? Did they plan on moving? Did they plan on elderly parents? Did they plan on debt? Did they plan on going to court? Did they plan on getting robbed? Did they plan on their tween getting pregnant? Did they plan for health problems? Did they plan on the house fire? Did they plan on getting sued? Did they plan on getting fired? Did they plan on depression?

Some stayed in the same career, as I did, while others jumped around with jobs far from their college major. Some turned out pretty well, some not so much. Some didn’t get to start. Some didn’t get to the finish line.

Tomorrow will be sunny and warmer and the body will need to go out and breathe and exercise and get ready for springtime. Maybe then I’ll grow up?