Paging Peter Pan
We’re all aware of the transitions in our lives. We all know that eventually we’ll get older and won’t or can’t do the things we do now. It rarely occurs to us, however, that this aging thing happens every day. That we won’t simply wake up one day twenty or thirty years from now wti hgrey hair and arthritis.
Five years ago, the sole focus of my life was going out, getting high and having fun. I could out-drink everyone I knew and never had a hangover. If anyone asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, there was a vague list of things like director, writer, world dominator, but most often I’d simply reply, “I’m Peter Pan. I won’t grow up.” And I believed it. The plan was to stay young forever. I wanted to be a nomad travelling all over the world without commitments or attachments. Everything I owned would fit in my car and I’d stay in one place only when I needed money.
Fast forward back to the present. While I may still stay up until the early hours, going out or doing anything but watching TV after 9 PM is highly unappealing. My vices have been reduced to nicotine and chocolate, and I’ve been completely sober for six months. Instead of being the perpetual traveller, I want a modestly nice house with a backyard, a stable schedule and my idea of a fun night out is dinner at a good restaurant and maybe a movie.
Last night, a friend of ours came back to town for a visit. We went out to dinner, did a little shopping, then started bar hopping. Going out to bars isn’t exactly the thrill of a lifetime when you don’t drink, but it can be fun in the right context. I had a good time catching up with people I hadn’t seen in awhile and dancing with the Tophmonster, but I was glad when 2 AM rolled around and it was time to go home. We ended up getting up around 2:30, rolling into bed a little after four. And when I woke up today, I could definitely feel it. My chest hurts, my entire body aches, and I’d be more than happy to be back upstairs in bed sleeping the rest of the day away, and I stuck to soda last night.
Sometimes I wonder where that Peter Pan me went off to, but I’m not disappointed that he’s gone. I’ve gotten older, maybe a little boring, but I’m happier than I ever was then. There’s this emphasis in our society that growing up and getting older is a bad thing. You have people desperate to cling to their youth, whether it’s through expesnive surgery to look younger, or just going out every night to make themselves feel younger. But what is so bad about maturing a little? If we spent half the energy on other things that we spend trying to reclaim something that can never be reclaimed… Well, the possibilities are endless. As for me, I’m quite content to grow up and get boring.
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