When I was a kid, I often looked at adults with incredulity. They were like me, except slow, boring, and weird. I was amazed that they were the species that had control of governing the planet. I thought kids were much better suited for such a role.
Physically, adults were slow. I could run faster, bike farther, and endure longer. I could climb trees and monkey bars, but all the adults I knew couldn’t. Either that, or they wouldn’t. But that didn’t seem likely, because why wouldn’t you climb a tree if you could?
Adults loved “exercise” which was essentially like playing outside, with all the fun squeezed out of it. No basketball, no soccer, no bikes, just crammed like sardines into rooms full of machines that you operate continuously until you get sweaty. That’s’ just weird. And shockingly socially acceptable. Seriously. If an alien race visited our planet and saw us paying for gym membership, they’d assume we were not intelligent life forms.
And there were other things. AM radio. Reading newspapers, or (even worse) non-fiction. Eating gross foods like beets, onions, and brussel sprouts. I could go on and on.
But I won’t, because the more I do, the more I realize that I am turning into everything that I swore I wouldn’t become. I think mustardy foods taste interesting. I don’t listen to much music anymore. My booklist is mostly non-fiction. My favorite sport is running. RUNNING!
Times change, but more importantly we change. I’ll try to remember that next time I judge somebody who’s different than I am.