It’s easy to write about memories and nostalgia. And I can talk a lot about my childhood, now that I’m old and decrepit, and many people reading my blog can relate because they grew up in the late 80s and 90s.
It’s crazy to think I was barely a child when Take on Me was considered a fresh new song.
Also, did you know there was another version of this song released in 1984? Now you do:
Like I’ve written before, I don’t have any memories before kindergarten. Whatever happened before my first day of school is lost to the void. Maybe one day I’ll try hypnotherapy to figure out what happened or create some false memories. Perhaps I had a traumatic 1985-1990, so my brain repressed those thoughts. In that case, it’s best to leave them alone.
Also, those five years of my life were likely insignificant. After all, it’s only 12.5% of my almost 40-year-old life and shrinking over time. How much of who I am now was formed during those years? We’ll never know.
I was a lump of clay to be molded at that age. I probably didn’t even have a real personality or was anything like how I turned out to be right now. I could write a letter to my future self to ask how much has changed. Always thought about doing one of those.
Things I enjoyed in my childhood that I still enjoy now: reading, writing, gaming, watching cartoons and drawing. I suppose I’m not as different as I thought.
Things I used to do I don’t do anymore: playing Magic: The Gathering. Does enjoying Slay the Spire or Balatro count?
Things I do now that I never did as a kid: work, workout, and make music. Let’s not forget smoking/vaping and drinking coffee and alcohol.
I had a lot of time as a kid. Life was easy then. When you’re privileged, and you don’t have to help out at your parents’ restaurant or shop, or do house chores because you have a helper, you have all the time in the world.
I went to school, sat through classes, learned shit, came home, finished my homework, and there was plenty of time left in the day to indulge in my hobbies. I didn’t have tuition classes or extracurricular activities that I didn’t enjoy back then.
Just like everything in life, you don’t know how good you had it until it’s gone. It didn’t occur to me that all the free time I had back then – all the minutes I took for granted – would be something I’d miss as an adult. It wasn’t something I appreciated or even noticed.
It was only as an adult in the workforce that I came to realize this. No more semester breaks, no more free time that started in the afternoon. Not to mention all the new responsibilities and bills I now have to pay as part of my life.
As a kid, I would look up to the adults around me, literally and figuratively, thinking they had their shit all figured out. I was tiny and insignificant. They always had the answers to all my questions. The only problems I ever had were related to school, because as a privileged kid, you have no other issues.
I didn’t have to live through poverty, gang fighting, crime-infested neighborhoods and all sorts of shenanigans. It was a pretty sheltered life. I wasn’t living like a prince or anything, but it was a comfortable one.
The main problem I had to deal with was convincing my mom to let me watch TV shows after bedtime (6 PM, by the way). If that wasn’t allowed, I had to convince her to record it for me on the VCR so I could watch it the next day.
I hated going to bed early as a kid. I was forced to. I was forced to take afternoon naps on the weekends. What a waste of time, I would tell myself. These days, I willingly go to sleep in the middle of the day because being an old man is exhausting.
However, I also wake up feeling bad, as if I had wasted the day. The same thing happens when I wake up late in the day. It wasn’t as if I had been partying late the previous night. I’m no longer in my 20s. I sleep more because I can, and because it’s enjoyable.
Back to my problems, or lack thereof. I didn’t have any serious ones. Getting my drawing book confiscated and then getting in trouble because I took it from my teacher’s desk during lunchtime, and possibly walking in the wrong direction in the hallways during lunchtime (we weren’t allowed to go back to our classroom during the break). That sort of shit.
In the bus, I witnessed (was not part of) older kids bullying juniors. I kept my nose out of other people’s business (I suppose that’s another trait I’ve maintained as an adult). I remember kids playing yo-yos on the bus, knocking other people’s heads. Schoolboy stuff.
I recall my friend on the bus who read that, to obtain Mew, the rarest Pokémon in the game, you had to follow a series of steps that included deleting your save game file. At that time, he had already collected 150/150 monsters, so when deleting his save didn’t give him Mew (#151), he broke down crying. I felt bad for him; he was miserable for a while.
Oh boy, what a time to be alive. Getting tricked by random shit you read on the internet.
Remember those chain emails that required you to fill in your personal information and forward them within seven days, or else you would die or your crush would never love you? That was a great way to collect personal information.
The only real problems I had were the complicated math and science problems assigned for homework. Back then, I didn’t see the value in solving those problems.
But as an adult, I now know. We weren’t solving those problems because we were going to be scientists or math geniuses (well, most of us weren’t). The idea behind learning how to solve those problems was to enable us to analyze and understand how to approach them effectively.
That’s why teachers always told us to write down the steps we used. We might not have the ability of a calculator to get the answer right. Still, if the steps were correct, it was usually good enough to score some points. It proved we understood the process.
And that lesson ties directly into adulthood. As a kid, I thought grown-ups had all the answers. Now I know it’s not about having the answer. It’s about knowing how to approach the problem, even if you stumble along the way.
Which is funny, because now I’m the “giant” my younger self used to look up to. And the truth? I don’t know shit either.
I’m a regular schmuck figuring out his own life. I’m not special. Just because I’m older and taller doesn’t mean I know everything, despite having almost forty years on this Earth. I see more than I did as a kid, sure but I’m no savior, no hero. Just another person figuring it out.
And my parents, uncles, and aunties, they all probably felt the same way. And I can empathize with them. Now I’m in their shoes. I know. Till this day, they are probably still as clueless as I am.
However, I have the emotional quotient to admit I don’t deserve to be revered at all. But the few young ones looking up to me don’t know that. They think otherwise, and they can’t begin to comprehend how adults really don’t know shit.
Since assuming the role of uncle to my sister’s kids, I’ve learned a great deal about myself. And I have them to thank for opening my eyes. I was once in their shoes, and one day they’ll be in mine, looking down at another hopeful kid…repeating this cycle.
For now, I’ll do my best to impart my years of knowledge and wisdom, so they become better people. No, I’m not that ambitious. How to be a functional human being on Earth. That’s the bar I’m setting.
I don’t know if I’ll ever answer all the questions my niece and nephews have. But I can at least tell them this: adulthood isn’t about having the answers. It’s about admitting you don’t, and still trying anyway.
One thing I swear I won’t do is lead them to religion. I’m not going to promise them something crazy, like eternal life in heaven, because there’s no such thing, and I don’t like to spread lies (I wish young me had the opportunity to know all this before wasting his life for Christ).
They can go down that road if they want to; that’s not for me to say. Just don’t come asking for donations.
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