Quite possibly my future RBF-Bahahaha!
Happy Monday, dear reader. I hope you had a wonderful weekend. My Friday was spent in Pittsburgh. As I have grown and changed over the years, the differences between my younger self and my current self are glaringly obvious. For example, when I was younger, I was fearless and bold. My dad would say I was reckless and impulsive, but fearless and bold sounds more positive and less insulting. We will go with fearless and bold.
During my senior year of high school, I would skip school every Friday. This was before truancy officers and phone calls home from the school if one were absent. My dad only permitted me to drive to school on Fridays. His rationale was his tax dollars paid for transportation, and it would be irresponsible not to take advantage of that service. In reality, I believe he knew if I drove myself to school every day, I would never be in attendance, and my provocation for getting into trouble would only be heightened. He was a wise man indeed. However, I digress.
My skipping school adventures began with just going out to breakfast and then going to school late. However, after one too many close calls with seeing people who knew my parents, I was a smart enough criminal to know that it was just a matter of time before I got caught. As a kid, I often marveled at how my dad seemed to know what I would do before I did it. As an adult, I know my dad had an extensive network of individuals who did not hold back in reporting my bold and fearless antics…see how much more positive that sounds than irresponsible and impulsive. It’s all about perspective and spin, folks. It also didn’t help that my dad knew everyone. Sigh.
As the year went on, I had to up my game to prevent getting caught skipping school. I couldn’t go to Greensburg, Johnstown, or Monroeville because my mom and her friends often went shopping there on Fridays. One place I knew I would not run into anyone who knew my parents was Pittsburgh. I would jump on Route 22 and head into the city without a care in the world. I never stressed or worried about the what-ifs. What if my car were to break down? What if I got lost? What if I ran into shady characters? What if I got into an accident? These scenarios never crossed my mind. Also, remember that this was before GPS or even Google Maps. My friends and I would just wing it and go.
Often we ended up in Oakland. We would go to the Cathedral of Learning, hang out on the Pitt campus, and have lunch at The O. It was these illegal and impromptu trips to Pitt that created the desire to attend the university. My dad put the kibosh on that dream. He told me there was no way he was sending me to the city and putting that kind of money into education for a girl who would work maybe ten years and then “retire” because I got pregnant. My father’s male chauvinism was not one of his more charming traits. Anyhow, when I was young, I loved the city. I loved all the little side streets, tiny restaurants, quirky shops, and the people. I loved the traffic. My rather aggressive driving style made me a natural at city driving. I would cut off people to get where I needed to be, blowing horns and my middle finger flying high out my window. Ah, the good old days.
The difference between the younger me and the older me is astounding. I have known for months about my impending appointment on Friday. For months, the thought of driving to the city, finding parking, finding the hospital, and meeting my new doctor created ridiculous anxiety levels. My bib overall wearing wonder buns offered to drive me. This generous gesture was not all kindness motivated. Like my dad, I believe my husband knows me better than I know myself sometimes. Before leaving for my appointment, I thanked Eric for driving me. His response was, “Your welcome. I figured if I didn’t drive you, you would just pull into a mall on the way down and not go to your appointment.” I must admit, he’s not wrong. I really hate to go to the doctor, and I do love to shop. After an indignant denial of such irresponsible behavior and a few colorful words to emphasize my indignation, I sheepishly admitted that the thought had crossed my mind. Sigh. My criminal behaviors are only surface deep, but the fact that Eric calls me on them is annoying.
Another aspect of my progression into old age is my ridiculous desire to be on time. Not just on time, but early. My appointment was at 11:00. I declared that we must leave no later than 8:30 to get to said appointment. In my now old and responsible mind, I figured an hour and a half to get there, half an hour to find parking and find the office, and half an hour or so to fill out paperwork. The GPS had us at the hospital at 9:30. My darling husband offered to take me out to breakfast at my favorite, Krouse’s Café if I was comfortable with that. Of course, I agreed, and we were still early for my appointment.
Since I received my AARP application, Eric has been making old lady jokes. He offers to take me to Eat N Park for my free coffee at least twice a week. Because I like coffee? No, because it is free to old people. He also calls driving me to appointments his “Driving Miss Teenie duties.” Sigh. He’s so annoying. However, minus the bad old lady jokes, he’s a gem. He goes out of his way to ease my anxiety, indulges my type-A whims, and makes me laugh at myself to ease my anxiety. I told him we had become one of those weird couples who does everything together and dislikes being apart. We’ll be one of those couples when one of us kicks the bucket; the other will follow suit in a few weeks. He tells me that may be my plan, but he knows exactly how he will leave this world, shot in the back by a jealous husband at the ripe old age of 95. He then giggles like an idiot. He truly is annoying.
As we drove closer to the city, the traffic increased, the congestion was significant, and the scenery became more urban and all concrete and steel. I watched the traffic with anxiety, looked around at the graffiti plaguing everything, and stressed about the time it took to get a short distance. Now, with my old lady mindset, I understand why city people are grumpy and often rude. The sheer volume of people, cars, and ass-hat-ery is overwhelming. I could never see my current self enjoying any aspect of city life. With my new old-lady attitude, I don’t even enjoy an outing to the city for a daytime adventure. The new old lady mindset sees danger, poverty, illegal activity, and possible homicide around every corner. Where oh where has that bold, fearless girl gone?
When my appointment was over, Eric asked me if I would like to stop for lunch. My response was, “Get me out of this God-forsaken city. Please just take me home.” In my youth, I would have wandered the streets and neighborhoods on foot, looking for something new, unusual, and exotic. My new reality is trying a Sonic for the first time and marveling at the extensive fast food menu and the balance of the roller skating employees. Sigh, I am indeed old.
Don’t get me wrong; there is beauty in the man-made world of city life. The beautiful architecture, the creativity, the diversity, the culture, and the hum of human energy are compelling. There is still a part of me that appreciates it. However, I find I prefer my dirt roads, more nature than manufactured skyline, and the higher ratio of goats to humans to that of urban life. Perhaps it’s true that with age comes wisdom. There is wisdom in appreciating where one comes from, what one takes for granted, and the life one builds. After just a short amount of time in the hubbub of the city, I appreciate the peace and serenity of my small town and my farm.
Do I miss being that impulsive, reckless girl? Yes, part of me longs for that devil-may-care approach to everything. I wish I could shut down the fear, anxiety, and reality of the world we now live in and throw caution to the wind. However, that is not who I am anymore. Now, I have a thirteen-year-old who looks to me for guidance. I am now the calm in the center of the storm instead of the storm. I no longer ride solo and take the my way or the highway approach to life. Instead, I have a steady, solid partner by my side. A partner who takes his “driving Miss Teenie” duties very seriously and ensures I don’t take my new grown-up self too seriously. I wouldn’t change it for the world, dear reader.
On this beautiful autumn day, stay safe, be smart, appreciate every version of yourself, and keep washing your hands.