On rainy afternoons I play golf. I stand tall and swing like my life depends on it, watching the ball carefully as it flies through the air and generally lands where I want it to land. Then I look out the window and I realize the neighborhood kids are watching me through the window. Oh, the glory of playing Tiger Woods 2010 on the Wii system with the shades pulled back. I guess it’s okay, though. I mean, I did have good form.
Back when I was a kid, and I had nothing better to do, I would often go outside on rainy afternoons. And it didn’t matter how hard it was raining, whether it was a drizzle or a full-on downpour, I would be out there splashing, singing, and having an irresistible type of fun. Of course later that night when my nose was dripping and I was huddled under a blanket with a raging cold I would wonder why it had seemed irresistible in the moment. But it wasn’t just me. All the neighborhood kids would be just like the kids here are, oblivious to consequence, and just having fun.
Then I got older, and it was high school time, back when I was living in a dorm. And the dean told us not to go outside when it was raining, something about lightning or whatever, but we were teenage boys. We didn’t think long-term like that, although with hindsight being 20/20 perhaps we should have given some thought to it. It was just all about having fun, seeing who could be out there the longest in the drenching rain. And I would often win, having to strip down just inside the dorm doors and ring out my clothing for my efforts. At least I had bragging rights.
But time waits for no man, and I got older still, I got married, and I had kids of my own. Uh oh. Now they tug on my sweatpants, they tug on my ear, they tackle me from behind, all with the express purpose of getting me up and out of the house while the great tub in the sky overflows. I see those sheets of water cascading from off the gutters, though, and pouring down the streets, and I can’t bring myself to get excited about it like I used to. Maybe it’s because now I care about catching a cold, or maybe I have just lost my sense of outdoors adventure that I think all kids have. Whatever it is, I would like to flashback to it every now and then, just to bottle that feeling up so I can smell it from time to time, to reassure myself that it used to be real.
Until that time comes, though, I will just keep writing about it, and I will keep kicking all kinds of ass on this video game. Ooh, I just made a putt. I know, it’s sad, but I do have great form.
Sam
Sam's Online Journal 