The Wide Angle: The struggle of maturity is real

Published 11:24 am Saturday, June 23, 2018

A number of years ago, former co-worker and current superstar on the Shakopee news scene, Amanda Lillie coined these now famous words — well, famous for me anyway.

“Sometimes, I struggle with maturity.”

I’m not entirely sure what she was referring to with so much time removed, but if memory serves me correct it was a breaking story on a grass fire where manure was used to put the fire out and at which we giggled — a lot. Like sixth-graders seeing a Playboy for the first time.

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Sufficed to say, it was pretty poignant, coming from a woman who once, unbeknownst to me at the time, held down the Blooming Prairie football sidelines as the Blossom mascot herself.

I guess we were destined to work together.

These words floated back to me again, for probably the 100th time already this year, when I became a full-blown adult and purchased my first SUV. I’m now a proud owner of a Ford Escape, having sacrificed my beloved Sunfire up to the gods of time.

I took another step toward adulthood even more recently with the purchase of a bike rack. Don’t ask me how or why this makes me an adult, it just does.

My mom and dad always said I was going to have to grow up someday. I guess 44-years-old is as good a place to start as any, despite the fact that I still have … “words” with my PlayStation whenever I feel a game is treating me poorly, which it is — always.

It’s never you, am I right gamers? It’s always the controller or glitchly programming or stupid programmers.

Regardless of how or why I’ve decided to become a functioning adult in today’s society, the fact of the matter is, that I have become one.

Pay the bills, buy the groceries, support the kids in their endeavors. Of course the kids in my case are two cats who really act like human siblings more than cats in that they are always hungry, always fighting or always getting underfoot.

Still, the buying of the Escape and subsequent bike rack somehow were the final indicators that I have indeed reached a stage in life where adulthood seems a tad more serious. I guess in a way it marks a certain level of midlife crisis, but while most adult men go out and buy a Corvette or Camaro, I went out and bought an SUV and called it adulthood.

Not to be left out, there is my garden, which come to think of it probably is the biggest indicator of leaving my fiery youth behind.

I know I’ve talked about my garden an awful lot lately and a lot of that has to do with self-serving ego. I had rarely tried growing something before this, and yet I have a garden with a metric ton, it seems, of tomatoes on the way.

By the way, if anybody wants tomatoes let me know. It’s become readily apparent that six plants is probably a bit much for two people, though the beans seem to be doing their part in terms of trying to choke out the tomatoes.

Circle of life.

And yet, as I write all these things, touting the inevitable march into a more mature station of life, I’m still thinking about going home and playing video games or watching cartoons.

No matter how old I get, at some point when I’m older with steely gray hair and a piercing gaze, I’m still going to be thrilled when I find classic “Scooby Doo.”

I just don’t think I’m capable of finding the level of maturity so many men have that are my age or older and I feel sad — for those men. Really I do, because given the state of affairs in the world around us.

There is an unpredictability in North Korea, an overbearing depression born of the lies of government and an overwhelming amount of humans being horrible to other humans.

But in the end, there is always Scooby, Scooby Doo and that immortal question of, “Where are you?”

It’s one of the great questions or our time really, because when there is a mystery to solve Scooby and the gang were always there to solve it.

Still, do I really condemn myself to the adulthood that follows the inevitable purchase of an SUV or the growing of a garden?

Probably not. I’m currently sitting at a desk that has four toys on it. You can’t account for that level of immaturity.

And I’m OK with that.