Life. A farce. A deceptive dance where pioneer members of society steadily lure the youth into successive phases of life that are shittier than the last. Example, Buddy gets married and urges you to do the same. Now substitute married for any major life altering status.
Imagine a world where canaries used in coal mines evolve a confusing trait; Instead of simply dying in the presence of toxic gases, these asshole canaries speak perfect English and say things like, “Holy Shit Guys! You have to get down here!” Then, they live long enough to stare at you while you lower yourself into the deadly trap. All the while shaking their feathered heads and staring at you with cold dead eyes that see life but cannot partake. This is life.
Don’t believe me? Think back to what people tell anyone on the verge of a social next-step:
Leaving Pre-school – “Oh wow, you get to go to Kindergarten next year! You are going to be a Big Boy!”
What Really Happens = No more shitting your pants. We aren’t putting up with that!
Leaving Elementary School – “Just wait until Middle School, it is awesome! Puberty strikes and sometimes uninteresting people suddenly grow boobs.”
What Really Happens = You get awkward moments and the girls in your grade date older guys but the younger girls aren’t dating yet.
Leaving Middle School – “High School is going to be the best time of your life! Senior Prom and driving a car and stuff!”
What Really Happens = Acne, crappy cars, and more awkwardness.
Graduating High School – “College is going to be the best time of your life! Drugs, Sex, and Rock n Roll”
STOP. Here is where the plot thickens. Just as you start to catch on to the ruse, someone is actually telling the truth. College is awesome. However, given the pattern of lies you have been swallowing, you think maybe college isn’t awesome so you hurry up and jump into the next official step. You get a real job. You get debt. You get oddly shaped belly-fat from marathon typing sessions at a desk trying to brown nose your way into importance.
At that moment (just like that time you accidentally told a dick joke a little too loud at Great Aunt GamGam’s funeral) you realize immediately that an error has been made. No takesy-backsey. You are a working man. You have crossed the fuzzy line between robust family support and the cold world not giving two shits who you are. Press on! You are a Big Boy!
Life is totally and completely not fair. I am here to change that. To give travelers on this lonely road a sense of hope. The next step is marriage and a family. They are great! You will finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. That pulsing light that powers the world; LIFE.
The deep swirling beauty of… Wait a minute… Shit…That is a train.
Oh well, at least retirement is going to be awesome! Right?
Queue background Tom Waits,
“Will I see you tonight?
On a downtown train?
Where every night its just the same,
You leave me lonely.”
You look for yourself on your ride back and forth from work but the person you seek is never there. Never will be. Your cooler-self was diluted into the present and according to Kenny Rogers, “The best that you can hope for is to die in the street.” (The Gambler, 1931?)
Awesome. On top of that, I am out of beers. I should (maybe) consider motivational speaking?