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Tick. Tick. Tick.
By briantologist | August 16, 2004
Holy crap, summer’s starting to end.
I’m supposed to say next that it seems like summer just started, but honestly, now that I think about it, it seems more like summer started about three months ago.
Which plays directly into a theory of mine. Remember when you were a kid, and every day took freakin’ forever? Like when you wanted to watch Sesame Street, and your mom said “Naw, bitch, that shit ain’t on for another hour and a half!”, and it seemed like you’d die of old age before an hour and a half passed, and you did everything you could possibly think of to pass the time, including wondering why your average white mom had suddenly started talkin’ ghetto at you, and after you’d done everything you could possibly think of you asked her if Sesame Street was on yet and she said “Bitch, I know I just told you fifteen minutes ago that mufuggin’ Sesame Street ain’t on for another hour and a half!”, and so you spent the next hour and a half lying facedown on the carpet softly moaning because you had to listen to somebody on freakin’ “Guiding Light” talk about what Victor Newman was up to?
Well maybe you don’t remember it, but I do. Conversely, keep in mind that every older person you talk to will remark on how much faster time seems to go the older you get, to the point where, from what I understand, entire weeks can pass by during the course of a single shower. The short kind, even, not the kind where you shave in the shower.
However. Over the past several years, also known as my twenties, I’ve noticed that time actually seems to be taking about as long as it does. In other words, I’m in the midst of the midst — the middle ground between when time seems to take more time and less time than it actually does.
Having realized this fact, I’ve set about celebrating it in an appropriate manner, by which I mean drinking and watching television. Every half hour or so I look up, and sure enough, it’s a half hour later. These are the good years, my friends.
Topics: Baffled Mutterings | 9 Comments »
August 16th, 2004 at 12:09 pm
When I was a kid and I would bug my mom for something and she didn’t want to be bugged, she would always say, “Gimme five minutes.” I thought five minutes was an absolute ETERNITY. 5 MINUTES?!?!? NOT FIVE MINUTES!!!!
August 16th, 2004 at 4:37 pm
By the way folks….through a friend of mine that was in Philadelphia when Rick James died, some Philly paper had
“I’m dead bitch.” As the front page headline on the newspaper. I think it was Urban-Tulas-ish kind of “newspaper”.
But needless to say that when I die, if anyone is around or hears about it, make sure they put that on my marker.
Here lies the Cheat!
“I’m dead bitch.”
August 16th, 2004 at 11:13 pm
I have this great mental image, Megalodon, of your mother actually speaking that way. It’s kind of like when the government officials rap at the end of Da Ali G Show.
Anyway, when I was a little kid my parents would always describe time in terms of PBS children’s shows. One hour was a Sesame Street. And, of course, the half-hour was a Mr. Rogers. This seemed to work until they would slip up and describe something as a Jim Lehrer. Then I just got really confused.
August 17th, 2004 at 11:35 am
I’m at the years going by like quick showers part of my life. I’ll be lucky if I have time to hit the “post” button on this comment before I drop dead.
August 17th, 2004 at 2:26 pm
When I was young, time was measured in Today’s Specials; for my older brother, Scooby Doos. “Only 12 more Today’s Specials until we get to Colorado!”
August 17th, 2004 at 3:18 pm
I think we could all use some quality Today’s Specials with each other. And some beer. And some snacky treats. And by the way, apparently you never do forget the Today’s Special theme song, because it’s running through my head on an infinite loop now.
August 17th, 2004 at 4:02 pm
Wow, I think I totally missed out on Today’s Special, ’cause I’m totally drawing a blank. I didn’t miss out on the Electric Company. With, y’know, the “HEY YOU GUUUUUUUUYS!!!”
Eh? Eh?
August 18th, 2004 at 12:49 pm
My brother and I used to scream that Electric Company opening all the time to my mother’s chagrin.
That’s one of the many things that endeared me to the movie “The Goonies” and specifically Sloth. That and the fact that I was a lot like the fat kid that befriended him.
August 22nd, 2004 at 11:33 pm
I’m 24, and your theory holds true until you consider the time realtivity of “The Occasional Shift at Work That Will Not Fucking End.”