Fond Memories of Youth
January 1, 2009
What’s it all about? Or, my life so far.
Today I’m home alone and going through an old box of memorabilia that has been stored at my parent’s home for 27 years. It’s quite a time capsule, with pieces of my life from age 11 to 22, providing quite an insight into what I used to think is important. There are lots of concert ticket stubs, graduation programs, travel tags, sports team pictures, Boy Scout awards, and a list of my music collection decorated in album stickers and a girlfriend’s artistic drawings. I see two underlying themes. One, it’s all about me. It’s a collection of accomplishments and trophies (literally, I won a dance trophy in 1974, but it had to be my partner’s talent.) Two, it’s about relationships. There’s a list of my friend’s telephone numbers and a petition signed by my friends about the time of the weekly teen club dance. Other people mattered to me, but mostly in the aggregate. I was not good at being a very close friend, one who cared deeply about another person. I don’t think I knew how. As much as I liked girls and wanted them to like me, I was terrified of initiating relationships with them. An interesting feeling, fear.
Having raised two children through the teenage years, having one new teenager, and a daughter who still has her teenage years ahead of her, I believe I’m well qualified to reflect on what teenagers find important. Obviously we want to be accepted by our peers. (Do we ever outgrow this desire?) We also think we uniquely feel love, that no one else could possibly feel as passionately as we feel about another person. (Or, if we’re more confused, people.) I thought I was meant to love women, but I know now that I misunderstood my instructions (Not listening?!) I was meant to love one woman as the personification of God's Beauty.
And what do we know of love at fourteen, fifteen, sixteen? Our love at that age is pure selfishness. I know my feelings were sincere, but in distant retrospect I must say that what I really loved was the idea that a lovely, precious,...
Timeout. As I write this, the Doobie Brothers are performing at the halftime show of the Orange Bowl: Long Train Running. “Where would you be now?…without love, love, love! Now they have a fantastic sax player that I don’t remember from the old days. They were one of my favorite bands in the early 70’s, because they sang about love, which I thought I knew all about. I also liked their “Jesus is Just All Right”, More about Him later.
Anyway, what I really loved was the idea that a lovely, precious, delightful, beautiful female would even like me and tolerate my presence with her. Why did I think I was not special enough to be liked by her? And did I love her for what I could do for her? No, it was all about how she made me feel about myself. To every teenager I warn: That this is a possessive love, not true love. But you will probably have to learn that for yourself the hard way. (Merlin to King Arthur: For it is the folly of men that they forget.)
VT 20 – Cincinnati 7. Goodnight.
What’s it all about? Or, my life so far.
Today I’m home alone and going through an old box of memorabilia that has been stored at my parent’s home for 27 years. It’s quite a time capsule, with pieces of my life from age 11 to 22, providing quite an insight into what I used to think is important. There are lots of concert ticket stubs, graduation programs, travel tags, sports team pictures, Boy Scout awards, and a list of my music collection decorated in album stickers and a girlfriend’s artistic drawings. I see two underlying themes. One, it’s all about me. It’s a collection of accomplishments and trophies (literally, I won a dance trophy in 1974, but it had to be my partner’s talent.) Two, it’s about relationships. There’s a list of my friend’s telephone numbers and a petition signed by my friends about the time of the weekly teen club dance. Other people mattered to me, but mostly in the aggregate. I was not good at being a very close friend, one who cared deeply about another person. I don’t think I knew how. As much as I liked girls and wanted them to like me, I was terrified of initiating relationships with them. An interesting feeling, fear.
Having raised two children through the teenage years, having one new teenager, and a daughter who still has her teenage years ahead of her, I believe I’m well qualified to reflect on what teenagers find important. Obviously we want to be accepted by our peers. (Do we ever outgrow this desire?) We also think we uniquely feel love, that no one else could possibly feel as passionately as we feel about another person. (Or, if we’re more confused, people.) I thought I was meant to love women, but I know now that I misunderstood my instructions (Not listening?!) I was meant to love one woman as the personification of God's Beauty.
And what do we know of love at fourteen, fifteen, sixteen? Our love at that age is pure selfishness. I know my feelings were sincere, but in distant retrospect I must say that what I really loved was the idea that a lovely, precious,...
Timeout. As I write this, the Doobie Brothers are performing at the halftime show of the Orange Bowl: Long Train Running. “Where would you be now?…without love, love, love! Now they have a fantastic sax player that I don’t remember from the old days. They were one of my favorite bands in the early 70’s, because they sang about love, which I thought I knew all about. I also liked their “Jesus is Just All Right”, More about Him later.
Anyway, what I really loved was the idea that a lovely, precious, delightful, beautiful female would even like me and tolerate my presence with her. Why did I think I was not special enough to be liked by her? And did I love her for what I could do for her? No, it was all about how she made me feel about myself. To every teenager I warn: That this is a possessive love, not true love. But you will probably have to learn that for yourself the hard way. (Merlin to King Arthur: For it is the folly of men that they forget.)
VT 20 – Cincinnati 7. Goodnight.
posted by sandwich77 @ 2:17 PM
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