Innocence lost
As I get older, more out of shape and the crow’s feet begin to tattoo my face… I think back on all the innocence lost that can never be regained. Things like the simplicity of going out with friends, keg parties, fearing nothing. The list goes on and on.
Your first kiss...
Mine was at a junior high school dance with the head coach’s daughter. She was a real prize. One that I paid for dearly later, running sprint after sprint at the request of her dear old Dad. I can still smell the shampoo in her hair. I can still see the look in her eyes as she grabbed me, moving in to put her trident fresh mouth onto mine.
This went on for three songs… me touching every part of this girl that I could, and then the lights came on. We never would have noticed, except for the shoulder tap from one of her friends. I looked around, with drool running down my chin, to see hundreds of eyes looking at me. Every guy in the place was envious, and a whole lot more girls became interested. Every time I am in a grocery store and an Atlantic Starr song comes on, people look at me wondering who let the smiling mongoloid out of his cage.
Your first sexual experience…
Mine was as forgettable as yours. It took longer to get our clothes off than to actually do the deed. I won’t bother you with the details of the mosquito bites.
Your first beer…
Nothing like drinking something that smells, looks, and tastes like fresh piss. I acquired a taste for beer like John Wayne Gacy acquired invitations to birthday parties, one at a time. Wanting to leave a dead end town that has no future, only to look back now and see that it really wasn’t so dead.
Your first joint…
Burning through your lungs like hell melting in your body. Taking the next hit, after the dirtiest slob at the party made sure the paper was as saliva soaked as his shirt was spaghetti-stained. I wondered when the cops would show up, cowering in a corner, wondering if someone would make some fucking Kool-Aid.
Being able to wake up as late as you want, with absolutely nothing on the agenda…
Want to go cruise the dirt roads? Maybe someone is at the Mines? We were fortunate enough when growing up that we had a place to go swimming; it had a 50-foot drop off that you could jump off of. This writer never did though. And no, I have no regrets about it.
I know that you can never go back in time, that all you have is memories. The true question is, why can’t you keep living life with the same openness and free spirit that you did while growing up? When did that line get crossed? Is there a certain day in your life that your mind switches from fun loving person to mature adult, never to experience that feeling ever again? Is it the daily tasks, responsibilities, and assorted boring ass crap that have dumbed me down to a boring person?
What’s worse, regretting that you never went full speed into the endeavors of life, or going so hard that you ended up a nervous wreck as a parent? Did we really do to our parents what our kids are doing to us now? Do I have to wait until I have no more obligations to my kids to have fun again?
Oh well, some things are left in the past for a reason. We all seem to remember the good times that we want, but I hope that the ones that were not so good never get brought to the surface again. Let sleeping dogs lie. Just make sure that the dog that’s asleep isn’t a Pit Bull, and you aren’t brave enough to step on its tail.
Spreading truth,
Manimal Lector
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