Being an Adult = Being Boring

I remember the first time I saw Star Wars.  It was awesome.  My dad read the intro to me because I couldn’t read that fast yet.  I didn’t ask how the cars were able to fly or how the ship was able to travel through space.  I didn’t ponder the plausibility of laser guns and explosions in vacuums, either.  I simply sat back and enjoyed the ride.

When we’d watch Star Trek, I never asked where the mouths of the Tribbles were, I just knew that they weren’t supposed to be fed.  I never wondered how the Silver Hawks were able to glide/fly through space when there wasn’t any wings.

I simply accepted this wondrous, fictional world created for my entertainment.  There was no conversation on the physics of Star Trek/Star Wars, or anything else, for that matter.  Just simple, unadulterated entertainment.

So why is it that, as an adult, I picked up Neuromancer by William Gibson and had to read the first three paragraphs four or five times before I was finally able to let go enough to slip into the story.  I almost gave up on it (after throwing it across the room) because it didn’t explain anything about where or when it was set.  It didn’t tell me about the world it was in.

I got so frustrated I started yelling about it to my roommate, who then asked, “Did anyone ever need to explain Star Wars to you?”

“Well, no.”

“Ok, then.  Pretend that book is Star Wars.”

And then it clicked.

We, as adults, are so rooted into our world of numbers, bills, paychecks, school choices, and, simply, caught up in life in general, we’ve forgotten how much fun it can be to simply sit back and imagine.  Some people, be they actors, writers, mimes, whatever, are able to let go in this way.

I think the rest of us can learn from those adults, and the children surrounding us, a very simple lesson:

Don’t be so serious, let go, and have fun.  This is our only chance.  Do it right.

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