Buy me a flute and a gun that shoots,
Tailgates and substitutes
Strap yourself to the tree with roots
You ain't goin' nowhere

This entry at Use Your Hands made me stop and think today:

During a conversation this weekend, a friend mentioned that when he was a kid, he thought adulthood was all about going to a sidewalk cafe and reading the paper. And my vision was serving a turkey. How is that different from who I am now?

My first idea of what adulthood should be rose up before me when I was taking a standardized test in the first grade. It was one of those long-drawn-out tests that probably took an hour to administer but to my six-year-old self seemed to take all day.

I went to a small Catholic grade school nestled at the a foot of a steep hill. At the top of a hill was a university and a convent. During the middle of the test I looked up and saw my French teacher (yes, French teacher, for reasons now obscure to me) outside the window, walking up the hill. At that moment I just wanted to be a grownup on a sunny day, walking up the hill without anyone interfering with me (or making me take [now in hindsight, completely ridiculous]tests).

I was thunderstruck. She could go anywhere! Without asking anyone, without having to take someone with her!

I watched until she disappeared from sight. When will I be able to do that?

And then I stared out the window a while longer, dreaming about it. I was pulled back rudely into my then-present reality, which was that I was a heavily supervised six-year-old, in school, who had managed to miss a whole section of my test. Had to scramble to catch up.

How is that different from how I am now? Probably not at all. Still prone to dreaming out the window. Still inclined to pay attention to something other than what I'm supposed to be doing. And an inveterate walker in all weather.

What did you think adulthood was all about?