I started writing this a couple of weeks ago. I had written of my adventure in a crowded store after forgetting how to say “excuse me.” I posted the episode and then noticed I had an email from Keith.
Here’s the thing. On the day I write about making my way through crowded drug store aisles, I read about how he scaled Everest with his pants down. Or something like that. It doesn’t stop there. Keith’s kids have huge adventures, too. It’s like the army commercial but worse. Before this boy reaches ten years old he will have done more than you will ever manage to pull off in your whole miserable life. While I’m sure his kids will on occasion disagree, Keith’s the kind of guy I’ll hire to raise my kids, should I ever have any. Or, perhaps, cuckoo-like, I could slip my progeny into the Sherwood nest to be raised as one of theirs.
So, adventure. When I meet people who know about my dislocated lifestyle, they say, “you must have had lots of adventures.” Well, yes and no. My so-called adventures are generally just inconveniences with some floral prose wrapped around them. I didn’t look for the adventure, it assaulted me. When I overcome adversity, it would hardly be appropriate for me to throw my hands in the air and shout to any gods who would care to listen “Yeah! Wahooooooooo! Fuckin-aaaaaaaa” That’s just not what you do in a drugstore, even if it is a chain.
I do think, however, that all my little adventures do add up to something. I’d be lying to say I’m not proud of my decision to put a hold on a lifestyle that saw me successful, sheltered, and fed to go off romping around the world in pursuit of new goals. Raising a family, I imagine, is a similar adventure, filled with a long series of little surprises as well, the subtle lessons that never end and slowly change who you are. The only thing that makes my adventures stand out is that they’re different. All parents go through the diaper poop explosion. That doesn’t make it less of an adventure than figuring out the bottle return thingie at the grocery store, though.
So I’ll continue with my little adventures, built largely on uncertainty rather than heroism, and I’ll enjoy the stories of others whose adventures tend more to the spectacular. And I’ll remember that life itself is the grandest adventure of all, and that we are all in it together.