Chasing Away the Serpent of Youth...

I was at World Market today to purchase a basket. I have things that I want to keep all in one place, and a basket seemed like as good a way as any to do it. In the checkout line, the girl noticed me signing my name for the credit transaction. She mentioned how she, too, was a lefty, and went on to talk about how difficult writing on the blackboard was during grade school. I appreciated this, as my own 45 degree ascending script had earned me a lot of juvenile chiding, plus a fair share of disapproval from my teachers. I thought, I'm grateful this little credit machine is not bolted to the counter top, as I would have had to climb up onto the checkout structure in order to position myself to competently sign my name. This could have been perceived as threatening for the attendant, even with the established common ground between us.
I suppose I bring that up because it made me start thinking about how happy I am to be an adult. First off, I can go to overpriced franchised bazaars and make silly purchases like I did tonight. Furthermore, I can use the basket in any manner I choose, recklessly if I desire, because my money (or credit, if we're being fair) paid for it. I drove home in an automobile that I have paid for as well (credit no more), but I didn't have to. I could have kept driving, perhaps to a late night diner. I could order coffee and bacon at midnight if I like. Today was St. Patrick's Day, and I went to a pub and drank. I wore my grandfathers green cardigan and partied like I was 19 and worked in the mines. I just finished reading a zombie short story and eating an ice cream treat. These might seem like insignificant things, but bear with.
For my part, leaving childhood meant leaving behind all the things I loathe about the human condition--ignorance, vulnerability, being at the mercy of powers you can neither grasp nor control, the fear of error, the dread of punishment, the steady and rhythmic drumbeat of disappointment. Now, in all fairness, no one counted among the 'adults' of the world is immune to all of these. However, there are certain magical elixirs that help to manage even the worst of the former hobgoblins--wisdom, understanding, responsibility, perspective. These are certainly not stocked in every bar, and I can't claim to tip them all at just the right times, but somewhere between the sinister closet of youth and the wide and colorful plain of adulthood, I was allowed to taste of these libations, and as the poet says, it has made all the difference. Some lament the passing of childhood, comparing it to the death of hope and dreams and all things innocent. For me, the freedom of seeing the world for what it really is and being secure of myself in its midst is far greater than any cauldron of coin at the end of a rainbow or wish granted from the plucked hair of a littlemans beard. Speaking of, I'm off to bed, and I will not be shaving first...