I am 24

I am 24.  That’s 7 years of driving, 6 years of legality, and 3 years of alcohol. ;) 

24 year-old quarterbacks are called “babies”.  24 year-old gymnasts are called “retired” and 24 year-old horses are called “deceased”.  I am not certain where I stand on this scale.

I still consider myself to be a young person.  I can bench press more than your boyfriend.  I can stay awake past the Charlie Sheen hour.  I can still do the hot-step.  Even with all these obvious signs of youth, it’s getting harder and harder to keep the same carefree mind of my early years.  I can’t have a rerun of Family Matters on for more than 3 minutes before I slip on the Evening News.  I spent so many happy, zombielike hours of my childhood in front of a Nintendo 64, playing whatever Madden was out that year.  Now, if I touch a game controller it’s in a Best Buy for about 10 seconds, and its followed by a vigorous hand cleansing with sanitizer. 

I read Businessweek. Crissakes. Businessweek? And I actually enjoy it?

Yes, I suppose I do.  Rue, please punch me.  It seemed like five years ago I was running out to the street to rip the latest Disney Adventures from our Piney Hollow mailbox. 

I never knew what a filibuster was nor cared about gun control.  I never drank or ate anything that had less than 8 scoops of sugar in it.  “Sweet tooth” they called me.  If you go to dinner with me tomorrow, it will be iced tea, unsweetened for dinner and coffee, black for desert.  I prayed for snow, and thanked the heavens when it came.  This winter, the thought of a winter snow day makes me think of nails on a chalkboard. 

I don’t think it’s avoidable.  I don’t believe I chose to “grow up”.  Rather, I think a little hobbit in my brain flipped a switch and my childhood was over.  I know we all can’t go to school forever, and we all can’t live with our parents for eternity but I didn’t expect my innocence to end so abruptly. 

Some of my friends still play video games.  Some even watch marathons of Family Matters after work.  I envy them.

Knowledge excites me.  My own ignorance disgusts me.  Productivity is my middle name, and Louis is also my middle name.  Justin Louis.

I am not 24.

“Tattooed Youth: A Novel” Coming Soon.