Happy Times

A lot of people point out that young people always want to be old, and old people always want to be young. If mathematics has taught me anything, there is an age somewhere in between when you are complacent. Today, I saw a bit of both worlds which leads me to believe that I am getting ever closer to that age.

I was going to see The Decemberists in San Francisco with one of my high school friends. I took the BART up from Fremont since the last time I saw a parked car in Berkeley, it’s rear window was smashed in. Yes it was one of many but I consider that image a sign. Anyhow, on the way up to Berkeley, I had a semi-Hollywood moment. Right as the BART passed by a soccer field, I saw a little kid score a goal. And as the BART zipped away, I could see him running around and celebrating. There was something artificial about that timing; it’s moments like these that aren’t supposed to exist for some random stranger on the train. Well, that wasn’t what made the moment a Hollywood one. It was longing feeling of being a kid that only Rescuers Down Under has evoked before.

The tickets I had to the show were on the balcony. I felt a little bad that they weren’t on the floor and a little bit worse to admit that I actually enjoyed sitting up there. Probably the biggest differences between being on the floor and on the balcony is a) you can sit, and b) the crowd is different. It was much older. People with children, and maybe even people whose children had children. I wondered how they got here. Probably heard about them through NPR. Regardless of what brought them here, they were totally rocking out.

I’ve lately enjoyed the sound of adults laughing. At first, I thought it was a weird sound to appreciate, but is it really? People say they love children’s laughter all the time—this is just on the other end of the spectrum. I think one of the main reasons I enjoy listening to “Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me” is that I get to hear adults laugh. I’m convinced that their laughs sound better because they’ve had so many years to practice them and I can’t wait until the day I wake up and realize I have that laugh. For now, when I have neither joyous childish laughter or austere grownup laughter, I think saying “lol” will just have to do.