And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful Wife
And you may ask yourself-well...how did I get here
-- Talking heads - 1980
Two things I don't get:
1) What the hell the chorus of that song actually means
2) Really, how the hell did I get here?
I know I'm not alone in this, the face I see in the mirror everyday is asking the same question as everyone else’s face I see – “WTF happened?” Wasn’t it like yesterday that I was tricking out my BMX bike with yet another awesome set of wheels and wondering why they would name a band ‘Queen’? How did I get from there to here and how come when that same kid, who’s still in there, looks in the mirror it’s some old dude looking back?
Granted, I’m not ~really~ old. Forty is the new 30 after all… but lets face it when my parents were this age they were already drinking fiber and pretending they enjoyed the taste of liver & onions (don’t know what your missing… try it, you’ll love it…). They were OLD.
Think about it, deep inside didn’t they also have a little toe-headed freckled face kid inside of them wondering what the hell happened? I don’t doubt that they did. Actually I’m quite sure of it.
You know that feeling you have right before a big 3-day weekend when you have all these plans and places to go? The weekend is the great unknown and full of so much potential when it’s Friday. You can’t wait to get where you're going and you can’t wait for the friends who are going to be there with you to arrive. Then comes Saturday, you maybe partied a little too hard on Friday night and some of the plans don’t seem as important now but after a quick nap you can get right back to it.
If life was a 3-day weekend, I feel like I'm at Saturday afternoon and it’s around 3 p.m. The weekends still young, we still have another full day before we have to start cleaning up and getting ready to go home. But still, sometimes I wish it was Friday again.
Ps.- there is water at the bottom of the ocean. Same as it ever was, same as it ever was.
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful Wife
And you may ask yourself-well...how did I get here
-- Talking heads - 1980
Two things I don't get:
1) What the hell the chorus of that song actually means
2) Really, how the hell did I get here?
I know I'm not alone in this, the face I see in the mirror everyday is asking the same question as everyone else’s face I see – “WTF happened?” Wasn’t it like yesterday that I was tricking out my BMX bike with yet another awesome set of wheels and wondering why they would name a band ‘Queen’? How did I get from there to here and how come when that same kid, who’s still in there, looks in the mirror it’s some old dude looking back?
Granted, I’m not ~really~ old. Forty is the new 30 after all… but lets face it when my parents were this age they were already drinking fiber and pretending they enjoyed the taste of liver & onions (don’t know what your missing… try it, you’ll love it…). They were OLD.
Think about it, deep inside didn’t they also have a little toe-headed freckled face kid inside of them wondering what the hell happened? I don’t doubt that they did. Actually I’m quite sure of it.
You know that feeling you have right before a big 3-day weekend when you have all these plans and places to go? The weekend is the great unknown and full of so much potential when it’s Friday. You can’t wait to get where you're going and you can’t wait for the friends who are going to be there with you to arrive. Then comes Saturday, you maybe partied a little too hard on Friday night and some of the plans don’t seem as important now but after a quick nap you can get right back to it.
If life was a 3-day weekend, I feel like I'm at Saturday afternoon and it’s around 3 p.m. The weekends still young, we still have another full day before we have to start cleaning up and getting ready to go home. But still, sometimes I wish it was Friday again.
Ps.- there is water at the bottom of the ocean. Same as it ever was, same as it ever was.
1 comment:
I don't know how I got here either. I could swear just the other day my own mother was grounding me for sneaking out of my window. And now I spend my Saturdays cleaning the windows of my house from my daughter's finger prints.
PS. this was a fabulous post, and very inspiring.
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