To most people, becoming adult depends solely on time passing. To those who have given the word five seconds’ thought it is defined by change: a mortgage, parenthood, taking out funeral insurance.
The concept worries me, mainly because my adolescence lasted so long I felt senility might well arrive first. Nor am I yet shut of those worries; at eighty-five I am still accused of childishness.
A scene from my youth emerged at about 5 am today. I’m still only a tea-boy at the newspaper. I have lunched in the canteen and am watching reporters who have also lunched play dominoes. There’s a technique to dominoes and a special vocabulary; the reporters are skilled in both these matters.
Clearly I am not an adult during this scene. But let’s be more specific. This is the passive part of my life wherein I merely observe. I’m sitting with the reporters because I admire their reporting skills and want to be like them. I’m also learning a little about dominoes. I also secretly admire the outward demeanour that goes with playing this game.
When it comes to girls, I don’t even dare to observe.
When I write my first article I take a first step out of passivity. When I finally become an editor, twenty years later, I am no longer passive, I impose myself. By my own professional standards I am now adult. But not in all senses. During these twenty years I have become a husband and a parent and many years are to pass before I become what I consider to be an adult parent.
“Adult” demands qualifications. A father who takes his son to Saturday soccer, rain or shine, yet is fanatical about stamp-collecting is not wholly adult. Some way to go then, but not with stamps
Adulthood is overrated. You do a splendid job of balancing aging with playfulness.
ReplyDeleteI am in complete Agreement Colette, completely overrated and he does balance aging with playfulness so well!
DeleteColette: But your judgment will be based on how I interact with adults (unless all my blogacquaintances are fibbing about their age) and even there I have made some grievous boo-boos.
ReplyDeleteAs my elder daughter approaches sixty I can reasonably claim to be a better parent that I was twenty-five years ago. But alas this is almost irrelevant. As the years pass by I'm the one who is in need of parental help, not her.
Look, I don't want to depress you but I believe your age is in and around sixty. In those days I was still ski-ing, had yet to take up long-distance swimming, and was quite capable of writing a thousand words a day of one of my novels. The physical and mental differences between being sixty and eighty-five (my present age) are immense. To the point where I probably wouldn't have anything to do with the stumbling fuddy-duddy I have become.
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DeleteI sorry to hear this. I'm not at the age where I am unable to bike, or walk, or swim. Yet. I realize that will happen eventually, and I am sympathetic to your frustrations. I still think you do a splendid job of balancing aging with playfulness, though. I wasn't really referring to physical play.
DeleteSo I'm not young enough to be your daughter. However, I could easily be your annoying little sister.
Roderick your Mind and Wit are still sharp as a tack and I only aspire in my 80's to have sound faculties... my Mom did clear into her 80's, my Nanna too {her side of the Family, nobody on Dad's side ever made it past early 70's}... you are still vibrant into your Octogenarian Years and that fantastic as far as I am concerned. If I were your Daughter I am sure you'd be someone I could engage in Life with still and that's so important.
DeleteColette: Eh, what's eight years among friends? In any case if we lived in - is it? - Tennessee we could just about be dad and daughter though we wouldn't now be geographically close. Wherever I'd previously been living in the USA I'd now be resident in Maine since March.
DeleteAnd as an incidental comment, your style of writing is that of someone who is in control of all her faculties although you might have to draw in a deep breath if you suddenly felt an urge to take up wristwatch repair.
In considering one's own adulthood it's necessary to adopt a panoramic view. Since the age of eleven I wanted to be a journalist and becoming a newspaper tea-boy at age 15 years and 358 days was the first step. With the exception of two year's national service and until August 1995 when I retired, that's what I've done. It's taken me round the world and given me managerial responsibility with powers of hire and fire.
Unfortunately journalism encourages selfishness. It's hours are rackety and it interferes with family life. While working I did very little to help bring up my two daughters. Only when I had retired did I assume some of the parental responsibility I should have taken on years ago. That's why I can't claim to have been an adult parent.
Bohemian: Yes I may write a blog which occasionally entertains and, in retirement, I am involved in the lives of my daughters and grandchildren. It's what I didn't do when I was still working that prevents me saying I've led a responsible life. There's more on this in my re-comment to Colette (above).
Indiana.
DeleteColette: I take it Indiana has low infection figures. I went there in 1971 to publicise a magazine I'd helped launch. The event was associated with one of the major colleges and was held in an extensive wooded area. What charmed me was a small truck that had been converted into a motorised beer container; spigots on the outside so you could serve yourself. My boss said: "You're impressed, aren't you?" I said, "The quintessence of the USA."
DeleteHowever, the state itself had little else to commend it. That's why I chose a different more rugged sector calling itself The Granite State. I would expect little comfort there and this might well discourage the virus.
Growing Old may be mandatory but Growing Up is entirely optional and I've fully embraced my Inner Child. Those who Adult too much are too Serious all of the time and yes, responsible, but boring and not necessarily Fun to be around. I don't opt for irresponsibility mind you, but I do enjoy the Joy and Awe a Childish Spirit seeks out and appreciated, while those so busy Adulting may miss out on. I'm glad you've held on to a Youthful Spirit my Friend, it radiates from you.
ReplyDeleteBohemian: You equate the word "adult" with seriousness but that's only one of its widely differing meanings. To act childishly with, say, a four-year-old daughter could be considered one way of adopting parental responsibility. But this is what I didn't do - or only intermittently - at the time.
DeleteIn fact I realise I must question the claim I make here about becoming more adult in retirement. Since 2008 (I retired in 1995) I have written four novels, over fifty short stories and a scattering of verse. Believe me, there's nothing more selfish than writing fiction: you enter a new world and close the door behind you. That too must be factored when I talk about growing up.