I, like many Asian Americans I know, turned lactose intolerant a few years ago. Right around the age of 30. And it totally sucked ass.
No more Cold Stones and Ben & Jerrys. Goodbye Pizookies. Hello estrogen-laden soy milk. (Reduced sex drive what??)
"I look forward to growing old."
"Are you insane?" Lisa gasped. She regarded me like a little puppy that just ate his own poop.
Dear Adults,
Hi. I am a little boy living in a small town in America. One day, I will grow up and be an adult just like you.
I am writing to ask you something very important to me. Please don't kill our planet.
"God, grant me the courage to change that which I can, the serenity to accept that which I cannot, and the wisdom to know the difference."
- Serenity Prayer
I find that each new year is usually better than the last. Which runs contrary to the beliefs of the Good Ole' Days. Or that your college years were the best years of your life. Or that childhood was a magically warm and fuzzy time.
Not that I'm saying those beliefs are false. Childhood was definitely warm and fuzzy. I had Puff the Magic Dragon, kids nowadays have Harry Potter. Both were and are totally real to children.
But, for me, I believe the best years are yet to come.
What's more fun than bucket of possums and an electric eel? Playing with second graders, of course!
Two friends and I were lucky enough to get such an experience. Our company offers a program called Classroom Buddies. In it, volunteers can take time off during a work day to help an elementary school teacher take care of his/her class.
This year, we got a rambunctious and edifying second grade class. Rambunctious meaning they were like a bucket of possums on speed, with two electric eels. Edifying meaning they opened my eyes to how much things have changed since I was in second grade.
It's funny to look back at all the dumb things you've done and wonder how you got through it all, isn't it?
Like that time you climbed onto the roof of your house and told your cousins you could fly. Or that time you climbed onto the roof of your school because you were messing around with a substitute teacher. Boy, you sure like to climb onto roofs, don't you?
Or maybe that's just me.
That moment, that instant we're born: are we good? Or are we evil?
Do we arrive into the world with a predisposition for good deeds, good thoughts, and good intentions? Or are we innately bad, inclined for evil acts, evil notions, and evil desires?
Me, I don't think it's either case. I think we're born selfish, (though selfishness is generally considered an "evil" trait). Allow me to posit:
"Do people really live happily ever after?" asked the eleven year-old. He stared up at me with wide, eager eyes.
"Well…" I paused. I sucked in a breath. "That's a big question."
He continued to gaze at me, unwavering. I knew I had to give him an answer. It's rare nowadays for the young to seek advice from their elders, so I couldn't let him down.
I want to be a grandfather who tells stories to his grandkids one day. Fantastic stories. Stories about how I fought off legions of rogue ninjas who swarmed the family mansion with just a rusty butter knife.
"My bones hurt."
"They do not. Bones can't feel pain."
I looked at my fingers. "Must be my joints then. Arthritis."
"You do not have arthritis," Lisa argued.
Weekly random rambles, musings & writings of Mike Lee in San Francisco, CA