All this Growing up Geek talk got me thinking about the inception and evolution of geekdom in my life. As I pondered, I realized it all began around 8 or 9. At this age you build some confidence about who you are and start to develop interests of your own. By 10, those interests become routines and take root at the core of your personality. You begin to idolize and dream about who you want to be and who you hope to be. So I decided to dip into the pool of Time and view a day in the life of 10-year-old me. I invite you all to participate in this thread as well.
7AM: Wake up, strip down to my Spider-man underoos and throw on a pair of “fake” LEE Jeans. You know the ones I’m talking about with the cardboard instead of the leather belt holder that your parents grabbed out of the bargain bin at SEARS. The knees of the jeans are all worn from all the crawling around on rooftops or under fences. There are tears here and there from being caught on barb-wire or rusty nails. Yeah, they’re like a second, protective layer of skin.
7AM: Sit down to a bowl of No Frills Corn Flakes and 20 teaspoons of sugar to create ghetto Frosted Flakes.
7:30AM Grab my baseball glove and a threadbare, several-stitches-missing baseball. Head out the door to the local school yard. I spend the next hour or two or three throwing that wobbling through the air as the folded back leather covering catches the currents and moves the sphere in a zig-zag motion toward the brick wall. The ball bounces off and rockets back toward me all the while I envision in my mind cheering fans as I make a tremendous play. I am a phenom. I am the god’s gift to baseball.
9AM On the way home with the still cheering crowd in my head, I cut through some wooded area dreaming of Stormtroopers or soldiers ready to attack from behind any tree. I crawl on my belly, imaginary machine gun in hand through the grass and leaves and brush. I am now filthy and officially ready for the day. I get back to my family’s apartment, drop off my baseball and glove, and with incredible effort carry my bicycle down a flight of stairs. Every step is a chore and holds with it the anticipation of serious injury or death.
10AM I am safe on the ground and ready to ride. Some days I am flying an X-wing, some Buck Rogers’ Star Fighter, some a Viper, while other days I am driving a bus or a cab. Hey. There is just so much adventure and exploring you can do. Some times, there are mundane jobs to be done. Once my friends arrive, we are in a motorcycle gang or motorcross racers equipped with clothes-pin attached baseball cards slapping against tire spokes to create a roaring engine sound.
12PM We get tired and decide to throw our bikes on the grass in someone’s yard. We grab our Matchbox and Hot Wheels and map out roads and a cityscape in a large dirt patch where grass has decided not to grow since children are always trudging about.
1PM Lunch. Grilled cheese and tomato soup or old school TV dinner with the aluminum tray and cover. I sit and watch Battle of the Planets and Voltron or syndication re-runs of Battlestar Galactica and Buck Rogers, The Incredible Hulk and Wonder Woman, or Six-Million-Dollar Man and Bionic Woman.
3PM LEGO. 'nuff said.
5PM Star Trek re-runs. I am glued to the TV, riveted by every moment.
6PM Dinner with the family. Dad questions, “So, what’d you do today?” My response, “Nuthin’” His retort, “Enjoy it while you can.”
7PM Shower, brush teeth, and jammies. Sit with my Star Wars Storybooks and fantasize about the galaxy far, far away.
8PM Nod off into the land of dreams.
