Thanks for sharing.

I was born in 63. Up until about 1981 it always seemed like I was getting bitten by one moray or another. The scars have finally healed. But it was a long process.

In the 70s kids used to harrass me every time I came to school with a haircut. It was like I could never be cool without an unkempt afro that blocked out the sun. The girls were all trying to do their hair like Farrah Fawcett and Jaclyn Smith from Charlie’s Angels. We were going to school in an overly critical adolescent culture that I must say I absolutely do not miss. It seemed like, of all things, punk rock/new wave was the social change that came to my rescue. I listened to a bit of the music and went to a couple of concerts, but it was the movements that defined the beginning of the 80s that stripped the power away from all those bullshit expectations. Well maybe I am overdramatizing. It may have been the simple act of graduation and no longer having to deal with the social cockpit of public school. I know when I showed up at UT in September of 1981, I realized that no one cared anything about who I used to be. I had a clean slate. It felt good.

When I graduated from UT in 1986 I wore a tie the first two years of my post college work life. But I guess I had started moving away from that. When I moved to California in 1990 I ended up in office environments where ties were optional. It was crazy. I would dress up to create an image to impress people to hire me for a job that I would not have to dress up to do.

I guess the interview culture is still that way. Maybe if enough people pay attention to the dress inconsistency that will change someday.

So now I only put on a suit when someone dies. So I don’t want a job with dress expectations of the old tradition. Because then going to work everyday would be like going to a funeral.

What I am taking away from the article is that it is okay to keep doing what I am doing. The idea that the stuff we did as college students has to end for “responsibility” to take over is a myth that is on its way to oblivion. I don’t necessarily have to pay attention to certain people’s expectations that I trade in my jeans and sneakers for more formal stuff.

My name is Raymond.

I’m 42.

I carry an iPod, a cell, and a digital camera with me at all times.

I dress casual pretty much every day at work and at home.

If I’m not grown up enough for you, if you have expectations that I do and live otherwise, either show me the money or keep your yap shut.

I suspect that I am one of the pioneers having passed through the hallowed halls of 30 12 years ago.

Being grown up is admitting one’s mistakes and facing the consequences.

Being grown up is respecting someone else’s opinion though it is different from one’s own.

I know some seventh graders who are more grown up than some adults I know.

Dave Barry said something that has always stuck with me on this subject: The way I see it, adulthood is a big, sleek jungle snake. It swallows you subtly, an inch at a time, so you barely notice the signs: you start reading the labels on things before you eat them…Before you know it, your furniture is nice. And suddenly you realize that you’d rather sit around on your furniture and talk about the warning signs of colon cancer than, say, find out what happens when you set one of those plastic milk jugs on fire. And if your kid sets a milk jug on fire, you yell at him, “Somebody could get hurt,” and you really mean it, from inside the snake.

I like this quote in particular because it still doesn’t make me an adult. =)

Still, I know there has to be something else because I’m not willing to join the ranks of the adult adolescent movement (not to be sexist, but I see a LOT of men joining up) either.

I guess ideally, IMHO, being a great grownup would be keeping the wonder of childhood, the fearlessness of adolescence and the ablity to “rage it” of young adulthood while being able to live independently (read: knowing how to “pay the bills,”) keeping an open mind/heart to life, and maintaining a sense of humor.

I guess that would be ideal, and maybe impossible. But one thing I agree with, “grown up” isn’t easy.

According to my birthday I’m a grown up, but I don’t feel it, and I certainly don’t act it – I have a boyfriend who can confirm this.