I now know just how profound my parents were when they said (repeatedly) something to the effect of, "Don't be in a hurry to grow up. Enjoy this time, because one day you'll look back and realize how great it was and how easy you had it." And man, I had it easy. Good friends across the street and down the block. Lunch money, movie money, gas money. Harmless crushes that left you giddy and giggly with friends. Breaking up accomplished simply by not returning a boy's calls. The feeling that we could be anyone, do anything and end up anywhere in the world because we were that fabulous and our opportunities were that plentiful. Confidence that all would work itself out in time if we just sat back and enjoyed the ride, preferably in a hot little coupe.
My dream car, just for funsies.
Then someone started tapping the brakes. Now friends are in difference states, the Bank of Mom and Dad is drying up, crushes equal complications, break-ups involve deciding who gets the house and who gets the kids and being anyone, doing anything and going anywhere actually requires quite a bit of cooperation from the rest of the world. Sometimes momentum is the only thing that propels us forward.
How much does the car need to slow down before we get out? Am I the one driving? If I am and I jump out, where does that leave anyone who might be riding along with me? But then again, shouldn't we all be driving ourselves around by now? Would I even want anyone in the passenger seat? I mean, sometimes I like to pretend I'm a rock star when I'm driving and I don't know if I want anyone pointing out my obvious lack of rock star talent.
Ironically, I have traded in my real-life coupe for an SUV, which should have more room for any potential passengers who want to tag along wherever it is I might be going. But I kinda like having all the extra room and I'm not sure how crowded I'm willing to let it get in there. I also don't know if there's anyone who could put up with my complete lack of a sense of direction without wanting to take over at the wheel, and my control-freak self actually enjoys driving. I also hate asking for directions.
I guess I should listen to my inner compass, because even when it leads me down an unfamiliar highway, I always find something that makes the detour worth it. Then again, maybe that's why God created GPS. Or maybe I need to trade in my Escape for a gondola...
