Unique, just like you......

I think it was Dion that once said, sang:

'Cause I'm a wanderer
Yeah, a wanderer
I roam around, around, around

My grandson, some 7 years or so ago (he's 11 now)...   Poor poor pitiful me (jk) had to juggle my eyeballs (yeah, Marty Feldman-style) and train them on a one yr old, the 4 yr old and a 6 yr old.  At the park.  Nifty, colorful slides, swings, fellow snotnoses to make new friends with.. if that tweren't enough to entertain, there was pea gravel, and/or, perhaps chopped up bark to sample as a dinner appetizer.

They each did their age-appropriate thing. My right eye was trained on the infant... left, on the oldest.  Oh hell, where's my grandson? (4)...   Soon, I would see his little hiney 50 yards aways as he was running off to wherever it was he was headed, whatever had caught his attention over the normal things kids gravitate to.  By the time I caught him, we were a hunnerd yards away from the others.  The little turd! This happened, time and again.

Thankfully, that was some years back, I couldn't run fast, but, at that time in my life, at least 'run' was still in my dictionary.  As I bounded toward him, my mind too wandered from "you little shit!" to laughter, hell-to-the-yeah, PAINT OUTSIDEA THE LINES, you go buddy, you go!"

Fast forward some years from now.. .(Of course, by then, I'll be, "to every thing, urn, urn, urn, there is a season, urn, urn") but, I can just see the kid driving a chartreus micro-bus, hair down to his shoulders, traveling two months or so across Europe, just he, his van and his backpack.  Avoid the yellow brick road... Avoid the yellow brick road, avoid avoid avoid avoid... avoid the yellow brick road.

'Cause He's a wanderer
Yeah, a wanderer
He roams around, around, around

"Celebrate the idea that you don't fit in. Find your own fit. Stay unique." Betsey Johnson

We spend the 'formative' years of our life in a funnel, swirling down, through, just like everyone else, as, that's the plan.  Do this don't do that can't you read the sign.

Conform, it's easier eh?

Because they said I had to.

I couldn't do that.

Please say "Moo" and keep moving thru the gate.

 

A few years back, I shared (or mebbe shoved down your throat, depending on your take) a paper my father had written in college in 1950 regarding race relations of that day.  Proudly, a buddy wrote "A real explorer in social terms.  I admire his alternative take on life and wish more people were independent thinkers as he was.  Cheers to those who beat to to a different drum."  If this is bragging, so be it, I'm proud of both my father and my grandson for their uniqueness, just like yours.

Speakin'a drums, I know not everyone likes In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida (it's fer sure disc jockeys who gotta go #2 do), but thank goodness there's so much to pick and choose from.. pop, rock, country, jazz, blues, heavy metal, punk, folk, jazz, blues, Indie, yada, yada, yada.

Of course there are many societal limits and 'goodies' (laws, taxes, one way roads, yada) we must all conform to.  But, fill your drawers up how ya wanna.  You can't wear socks under sandals. Watch me. (Editor's note.. always do the underwear thing.  Commando, sure, was cool back in the day.. but we're too damn old for that if ya get my drift by crackie.)

I won't use the word hate, but, mebbe abhor instead.  As we travel this asphalt, cobblestone, gravel, grassy, dirt, yellow brick path of life...  I plan to continue to swerve around those that never got outta the hall monitor mode from school.

I'm off.. (to see the Wizard?) No, not that road. I'm off to find a carnival that sells a good funnelcake.  I'll devour that.  Drive home at the speed limit. (I know, daring eh?) Then, I'll kick my feet up, have a glass, bottle of whatever I wanna...  and eat a whole dadgum box of GS Thin Mint cookies.

You can't do that!

Wa... ah, Ahm, ... eh, nevermind....   (belch, burp)

And when you can't be... with the one you love, honey......  love the life you're with.

Love, Victurd