Being a humble theatre artisan I have found a need, like most of my colleagues, for more than one form of employment in order to pay those pesky monthly bills. I have thus far accumulated three jobs,
one of which is the glamorous task of shelving and scanning books every morning in the kid section of the literary retail giant B&N. One particular morning, during my typical routine of tedious alphabetizing and procuring the obnoxious “deedle deeldle dee” of my book scanner-thingy, a title caught my eye: 101 Thing You Gotta Do Before You’re 12! by Joanne O’Sullivan. 101 things? That’s it? I was curious what 101 of my childhood experiences Ms. O’Sullivan had selected for 12 year-olds everywhere to do.A bit cockily, I flipped open the book. I mean, surely I had done them all. Right? I could have written this book. Right? I took a peek.
#34: Watch the sunrise on the beach. Uh…Ok. Fine. One thing I’d never done. I flipped to a different page.
#73: See The Northern Lights. Well, shit. I flipped again.
And again. And again. Turns out, the modern 12 year-old is expected to do a lot more than I had ever even imagined doing before I was twelve, let alone before now. Talk about epic disappointment. With every flip, my experiential age diminished. I was supposed to do ALL of this before I was 12? Even in the years since I hit that easily forgotten landmark in life, my accomplishments were scarcely published within the pages of this book. I couldn’t believe it. I was shocked (shocked!) to make this discovery. Suddenly the kid scanning a Goosebumps book across the aisle from me seemed significantly cooler than my highly under-experienced 23 year-old self.
Was I OK with this? Uh, no. Did I want to do something about it? A resounding yes. I started looking at each page (off the clock of course! :) ) and reading about each of the things. They were actually quite interesting. I mean, there was a mild dose of lameness to some of them, but c'mon. What's being twelve without being a little lame, right? I needed to investigate these tasks a little further. Ignoring the mildly judgmental glance from the bookseller, I impulse-bought my new find.
So! I present you with the point of all of this. In the ridiculously small amount of free time I have between my five billion jobs and responsibilities, my intense spouts of ADD, and the little sleep I get, I am going to attempt to do everything in this book. All 101 of them. I want to share all of this with you in this journal (#25-Start a Journal, check) and maybe you can try out one or two yourself. It could be fun? Yeah?
And so, here with my pirated internet and Taco Bell cup filled with White Zinfandel (classy, I know...), I take one giant step for lame 23 year-olds (or 30, 40, 50 year olds, whatever) everywhere and am starting a whole new to-do list. Maybe once I’ve checked them all off, I can walk into the kids section with my head held high again. Maybe…
