By Drew Adamek
I’ve never been one much for consequences. I’ve lived most my life with a catch-as-catch-can, seat-of-the-pants, improvisational philosophy; unexpected and constant change and a crippling fear of responsibility have led to a lifetime of skillfully avoiding the consequences of my actions.
My motto is “We’ll just figure it out when we get there.” I’ve been able to do that over the last 25 years or so because I’ve never been caught doing anything that has had a lifelong impact: no kids, no convictions, no diseases.
I feel like I’ve skated through life, underachieving and fucking everything up because I was smarter than everyone else and getting out of all my messes relatively unscathed because, well, I was smarter than everyone else. (Pretty clear how I’d get caught in a circle of shit sandwiches, right?)
I’ve made some really dumb decisions over time, and yet, somehow managed to build a pretty good life for myself. Sometimes I am not sure how I’ve come to be as happy and successful as I feel. I don’t understand how the past-tense, teenage Drew that decided to leave home early and drop out of high school and bail on his friends all those years ago deserves to feel as happily married, financially secure and professionally rewarded as I do now.
I’ve managed to skirt my way around the big fuck-up stuff without a scratch but there is a more sinister set of consequences creeping up on me that I know I cannot and will not avoid: age and physical deterioration.
I don’t mean the extra weight or the creaking joints or the “things were better then” bullshit that I am going through. That I understand: junk food, a sedentary life and unrealistic nostalgia will do that to you.
I am getting older and I can tell in other, more subtle ways. I really don’t mind aging; I am proud of my gray hair, and I like feeling battle-hardened and experienced when things get tough.
I am talking about the subtle changes and shifts in attitude and lifestyle that make me look down the path of time I’ve trod and realize that it ain’t 1989 any fucking more.
Here, then, are the signs that I am growing up and getting older:
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Posted on June 4, 2010