I’ve been thinking a lot about aging.
Getting older is not what I expected at all. The cliches you see in media don’t even begin to capture it. In some ways, your world contracts, as the scope of things you’re capable of or care about narrows. But on the other hand, the world feels brighter and more alive, because experience has taught you the real weight of things, the value of someone else’s life. Your place in things is smaller, and yet, paradoxically, your vision and appreciation of the whole picture is far bigger. When you’re a kid, reality is VHS, full of simple good guys and bad guys; (most) adults see in 4K, with incredibly sharp contrast.
Also, my emotions are on a hair-trigger. I tear up or get goosebumps at movies/TV/music/games/books all the time, and I kind of like it. Admittedly, there is a flipside, there are tons of movies and TV shows that I refuse to watch; anything where a dog or cat is harmed, scared, or lost can get the hell out of my face forever (sometimes even Baby Yoda in peril was pushing it). The cliche explanation of this is true: living through things fills up your emotional tank. My high school drama teacher used to blow us all away with her ability to cry on demand. When we couldn’t replicate it, she responded, “You haven’t lived yet, you have nothing to pull from.” At the time, I thought she meant she was imagining a sad thing that happened to her, but now I realize you don’t have to imagine a damn thing. If you’ve lived it, it just comes out of you.
And maybe the biggest one: you experience being wrong. Not incorrect, mind you. Wrong. Dead wrong. Small choices with giant consequences. You make a bad financial decision and watch it ripple for years. You neglect your body and it hands you a malady you’re stuck with for life. You commit a sin you never thought you were capable of. You realize you don’t know yourself. This is where God takes the gloves off and really works on you. It’s painful and terrifying, but you learn.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized there is nothing more important to me when I judge another human being than understanding their relationship with their wrongness. The people I like, the people I get along with, are the ones who wrap their arms around their mistakes and own them in the open; some addicts call this “hugging the cactus.” I like cactus huggers. I cannot abide people who bury their cactus, or won’t acknowledge it, or try to give it to someone else. I also can’t stand people who read a book that convinced them that their cactus isn’t a cactus at all, or they don’t really need to hug it. Any of those behaviors make people unforgiving and judgmental.
Now there’s a lot of cacti in my particular desert, but there’s one I keep thinking about lately: myself in high school. I was then, as I am now, a deeply opinionated person, and I did not struggle to enumerate those opinions to those around me. But looking back, I’m genuinely shocked at how many of those beliefs–especially the most firmly held ones–have completely reversed. You might say that’s normal, and it probably is, but when you’re prone to… uh… popping off at the mouth as I am, you don’t get the same slack for changing your mind, because you force everybody to hear about your Very Important Opinions all the time. Which is technically what I’m doing right now. It never ends.
So in the spirit of hugging my cactus, I’d like to outline ten things I was wrong about in high school, in no particular order. This list is neither sequential nor exhaustive. I’m sure I’ve been wrong about many other things that aren’t listed here, and I didn’t bother to try and sequence this list in any meaningful way. This is just a free associating rumination on how many times I was certain of something that turned out to be false. If you went to high school with me, and had to listen to any of this, I hope this is going to be at least a little cathartic. It’s been a rough year. You’ve earned it. Enjoy.
10. WEEZER
HIGH SCHOOL ANDREW: Weezer is the greatest band of all time and I’m going to wear a Weezer hoodie to school EVERY DAY for YEARS to make that point. This band is flawless.
WRONG.
Oh High School Andrew, you poor thing. You sweet, summer child. Weezer had just begun to slowly bludgeon that love from you with terrible album after terrible album. “Raditude” was years away. So was “Back to the Shack.” Weezer has completely disappeared from my musical life. In my first version of this, I trashed Weezer for sucking, but I realize that’s just another form of running my mouth, so I’ll politely frame it this way: this band that I thought was my musical soulmate was a passing fling at best. Some people enjoy Weezer as they are today, and that’s great. For me, I just don’t relate to them, and their music does nothing for me. I never could have imagined feeling that way when I was 17.
9. LISTENING
HIGH SCHOOL ANDREW: I’m a good listener!
WRONG.
I am, in fact, a terrible listener. You ever hear about those people who are just waiting for their turn to speak? That’s me. It’s a problem, and I’m working on it. When I was in high school, though, I did not know this about myself. I thought I was an observant recluse, surgically dropping pearls of wisdom at just the right moment. In reality, I was an out of control machine gun attached to vocal cords. Seriously, how did you all not punch me in the mouth sometimes?
I blame two things for this. One, I come from a family of confident talkers, so I learned early that if you want to get a word in edgewise, you gotta elbow in. Second, I think I have some kind of very low level, undiagnosed attention deficit thing that makes it hard for me to concentrate on what’s going on, and talking helps me stay locked in. I have physiological reactions to boredom that are beyond normal; my skin literally flushes, I feel feverish. If you’re on the phone with me, the odds are good I’m playing video games, or taking a walk, or mowing the lawn, because it’s easier for me to concentrate that way. I do my best listening when I’m driving, because I have a task and I’m not expected to maintain eye contact. You can tell me your life story in a car.
When I first started to realize this was a thing, I worried I was some kind of egomaniac who didn’t care about other people. But then I got a job doing casting editing for shows like “Catfish” and “Guy’s Grocery Games,” and I actually found that I loved hearing people’s stories. I think it’s all the social stuff that surrounds listening that derails me. You have to maintain eye contact. Your body language needs to indicate interest. And most of all, you have to laugh when the talker wants a laugh. I really struggle with this one. I can feel the alarm in my brain go, “That was a joke, they want a laugh there.” And then my other brain says, “But I didn’t think that was funny. I saw the punch line coming when they started this story.” Then the alarm replies, “Yeah, it doesn’t matter, just laugh.” And then I reply, “But that’s lying.” “It’s not a lie, it’s just being nice.” “By lying.” “Hey, I’m sure people laugh at YOUR jokes that aren’t funny, too.” “Well, I didn’t ask for that.” “It doesn’t matter, you benefitted from it, and now you’re refusing to play along, which is selfish.” “Okay that’s fair.” “So just go ahead and laugh.” “Oh crap, we’ve just been sitting here flat-faced for twenty seconds.” “Damn it. This job interview is not going well.”
If you ask people who know me, I think they’ll tell you I’ve gotten a lot better at listening, but it’s a process, and a daily choice. I’m working on it.
8. BATHS
HIGH SCHOOL ANDREW: Ew, baths are gross! Who would EVER take a bath when there are SHOWERS, the bathing ritual of CHAMPIONS??
WRONG.
Baths are amazing. They’re useless as a cleaning tool, showers reign supreme there, but as a pain manager and stress reducer they are the real deal. I have had an actual doctor (who went to med school, I remind you) stare me in the face and prescribe me “regular baths” to treat kidney stone pain. KIDNEY STONE PAIN. At the time, it felt cruel: I’m here experiencing agony and your prescription is rubber ducky time? But the first time I eased into a hot bath and felt the pain vanish out of my body like the Holy Grail had been poured on it, I was a believer. Your body reacts to being surrounded by hot water in some pretty incredible ways. It’s probably got something to do with thinking you’re in the womb, I don’t know, I’m not here to analyze it, I’m just saying you should take baths if you can. They have so much to offer you.
7. VEGETARIANISM
HIGH SCHOOL ANDREW: Ha! Vegetarians. How lame. I love MEAT, I eat it every meal and always will!!
WRONG.
I’m not a vegetarian, but my meat consumption is down by about 90 percent. I have at most two meals with any meat in them per week, and it’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Many of my favorite restaurants are vegan/vegetarian, and I would give my left pinky for a time machine so I could tell High School Andrew that and watch him try to process the information.
At first, cutting meat down was a necessity, since animal protein produces kidney stones (which are kind of a theme here, I notice), and you don’t need many of those before you never want another one. But over the years, I’ve found that I’m way better off seeing meat like a dessert, or an occasional indulgence. I feel and look healthier, I have more energy, and I sleep a little better at night if I’m honest. I don’t think that proves meat is awful for you, my guess is that it’s a combination of fewer calories, more fruit and vegetables, and a reduction in things correlated to meat consumption: carbs, salt, fried food, etc. But whatever the case, cutting meat has been a good thing. I’m definitely not telling you how to live your life, but this has made a big difference in mine.
6. POLITICS
HIGH SCHOOL ANDREW: I’m well informed about politics and you should listen to my very important opinions about it!
WRONG.
I was a diehard conservative in high school, and I am not now. It might be the loudest change I’ve experienced as an adult, and certainly the one that I was the most conscious of it as it happened.
Now, an important qualifier: I am not here to bash conservatives. Many of the people I respect and love most on this planet are conservative, and while I disagree with them (sometimes fiercely), loving people on both sides of the aisle unburdens you from the convenient illusion that your opponents are evil, stupid or acting in bad faith. People just see the world differently, both because of how their brains are wired and their life experiences. The Ancient Romans were having many of the same debates we have now. It’s just the way it is. That doesn’t mean both sides are equally in the right, but it does suggest that on some level this bifurcation between progressive and conservative is a fundamental feature of human society. So my issue with High School Andrew isn’t that he claimed to be conservative. My issue is that he did not know what the hell he was talking about.
This kid would tell you with confidence who should be President, but could not enumerate a single policy position. He couldn’t tell you how many people were in the House or Senate, or even what the difference between those is. I was all in on the Iraq War, and yet had no idea where Iraq was, why we were going, none of it. I was just talking to talk, venting feelings that had nothing to do with the tangible policy that was at stake. I also waded in on social issues–systemic racism, sexism, homophobia–where I really should’ve been listening, and regularly made a fool of myself. When I was in high school, politics was about identity, about defining myself. Since I came from a conservative family, being conservative felt like staying true, being faithful. All of these emotions got mixed up in defending a political party, which is always a mistake. I probably lost a lot of arguments without knowing it, but it wasn’t until I ran headlong into a frank discussion about the Iraq War with a friend’s father (who was in the Air Force) that I got the intellectual whooping I deserved. He was very kind about it, but firm: you really need to learn more about this stuff. And that’s what I did. The change didn’t happen overnight, but that was the beginning.
I recognize my tone is a little cagey here. This might come off like I’m a “both sides are bad, all politics is corrupt” person, and I am definitely not, I can’t stand that position. I’m being careful because I hate sucker-punching people with politics, and I don’t want anyone reading this to feel bait-and-switched. If you know me, I’m sure you know I’m a left-leaning moderate and about as anti-Trump as they come, but my point here isn’t that I used to be a bad thing and now I’m good. My point is that I used to talk about really important things without understanding them, and I have a lot of guilt about that. As an adult, I’m trying to be better.
5. TEA
HIGH SCHOOL ANDREW: Tea is GROSS. Why would anyone drink this? It tastes like garbage.
WRONG.
Tea rules. I practically live on tea. Not carbonated tea mind you, hot tea, the kind where you pour water over a bag. Do you have any idea what a miracle this liquid is? It tastes amazing (no, really, it does!) It has a million flavors. It will cure you of like twenty different things. It doesn’t stain your teeth or ruin your breath or load you with calories. The rest of the world knows this, and basically injects tea into their bloodstream. But a lot of Americans have a visceral aversion to tea, which I understand because I once shared it. We are fiercely loyal to coffee, and tea feels like a bitter, watery interloper. Have you ever had someone get annoyed with you just for mentioning tea? I used to be one of those people.
Now I see the light. Coffee, soda, liquor, they all have crushing downsides. Tea is all upside, baby. Coffee is just a socially acceptable cigarette–DAMN it there I go with the opinions again. I’m sorry. Coffee is great if you like it. I’ll probably be doing another of these in a decade and I’ll be hooked on Starbucks.
4. SPORTS
HIGH SCHOOL ANDREW: Sports? I don’t watch sports. I watch the Super Bowl for the commercials! I’m an artist, a theater kid, a music fan. Sports aren’t really my kind of thing.
WRONG.
I love sports. Football and F1 are my favorites, but I’m open to everything.
A couple things changed. First of all, I had a college roommate who watched football, and I was forced to realize it is perfect entertainment. Soccer and hockey don’t score enough, basketball scores too much, but football scores just the right amount. It also helps that the NFL achieves competitive parity at a level beyond any other sport I’m aware of. There are no “rich teams” and “poor teams.” Anyone can win on any given Sunday. The NFL has a lot of problems, and I’m not excusing or condoning any of them, but I’m not going to sit here and tell you I don’t love watching the games, because I do.
The other thing I came to understand is that sports in general aren’t about worshipping athletics or being popular or whatever offended me about it in high school. Sports are stories. You get attached to the people, their journeys, their trials and tribulations. Every great matchup is a powerful unanswered question: who wants the win more? Can the old veteran still perform? Is the rookie going to find his footing? Can this guy calm his nerves and save his career? Sports are every bit as much a narrative as any movie or television show or video game. You’re tuning in to witness an epic poem in real time, written in blood, sweat and tears.
3. RUNNING.
High School Andrew: I hate running! Running is painful and lame! It’s torture! Why would anyone DO that to themselves??
WRONG.
I absolutely love running. It’s my favorite exercise by a mile (no pun intended). I recognize this one is a softball, and may come off as a humblebrag. Bear with me, people. I’m going somewhere with this.
If you think you will never love running, I assure you that I was once as militantly anti-run as you are. I think the mistake people make with running, and with exercise in general, is they start off too hard, they hate it, and they quit. Most running, unless you’re training for something, should be easy. Experts advise you to run at a “conversational” pace, which means you should literally be able to have a chat while doing it. I don’t feel like enough people know this. They get off the couch and shout “I’m gonna change my life!” and try to absolutely book it for like two miles. And sure, they get it done, but their memory of the event is “that was AWFUL.” They think that’s what it’s supposed to be like, and then they get discouraged when they can’t force themselves to keep doing it. But the dirty secret of exercise is you really do have to enjoy it. Those people you see getting buff in the gym or running amazing pace (I am neither, just to be clear), they’re having fun. They’ve just slowly built up a higher fun tolerance than you.
For a few years in college I forced myself through sporadic misery runs, which I always hated. Finally, I got some solid advice and started structuring my runs to be lightly strenuous but consistent, worrying less about pace and distance and more about showing up, over and over. I started running outside, during the day. I found podcasts or audio books I liked to listen to while doing it. I started looking forward to it, and then my pace and distance started organically improving. Now I push myself pretty hard when I run, but I’m comfortable with that, and I can always ease back if I need to, because I have a foundation of years of consistency backing me up.
I think running has a lot to offer most people. It is a calorie destroying machine, it boosts mood and promotes bone density, and it scrambles your brain chemistry in wonderful ways. After a good run, I buzz for the whole day. It makes me feel lighter, more at ease in my body, and stress gets the volume turned down. A lot of people picture suffering and pain when they think about running, and that’s ironic because I associate it with almost drug-like euphoria. If it’s miserable, you’re doing it wrong. You’re probably holding yourself to an unreasonable standard, or trying to skip ahead too many steps. Start small and easy, be patient and consistent, and things will happen, I promise you. That’s how it works.
2. COOKING SHOWS
High School Andrew: I don’t care about cooking or reality television, so why would I ever watch a cooking show? Cooking shows are dumb.
WRONG.
You can say what you want about ME, High School Andrew. But you bite your tongue about “Beat Bobby Flay.”
1. CATS
High School Andrew: I hate cats. Dogs are good, because they love you. Cats are weird, aloof, mean-spirited little jerks. People who own cats are deluding themselves, the cat does not love you and you’d be better off with a dog.
Hahahaha WRONG.
I’m guessing you probably know that cats now run my life.
“Cats=bad” held out for a long time, well into my 30s. I even semi-adopted a stray cat for a few months who loved me, and the needle still didn’t move. I was pretty confident this hot take was coming with me to the grave. And then Jonesy happened.
Look at that little FLUFF BUTT I’M GONNA SQUEEZE YOU sorry sorry, kinda went blind for a second there. Ahem.
Cats are, in fact, great. Cats should be made emperors of everything and granted all of our personal property to scratch and poop on with no consequences. They are the best thing the human race has going for us. They’re small and adorable, yet they carry themselves like they’re apex predators in the jungle. Every time you pick a cat up, you can almost feel them trying to square the contradictory information: I’m clearly a deadly hunter, how and why is this guy is bouncing me around like an infant?
I also love that they’re still not fully domesticated, thousands of years later. Dogs drank the Kool Aid years ago, we’ve got them sniffing bombs, helping the blind, diving in front of bullets. Cats are having none of that. They do nothing for us, and yet we pay for their food, grooming, housing and entertainment. They have made complete suckers of the most dominant species on Earth. Did you know that scientists recently tried to figure out why we can’t train cats to recognize their names, only to discover they do know their names, they just refuse to acknowledge them? Seriously, give them the Washington Monument.
As a kid, I thought dogs were amazing and cats were garbage. What I see now is that dogs and cats are both great, they’re just good at different things. A dog can offer you total commitment, unconditional love, but they also come with a lot of work and baggage. Getting a dog is like 40 percent of the way to having a child. And they’re dangerous; I never get mauled by some careless jerk’s cat when I’m running in the park.
Cats, meanwhile, are self-sufficient. You can leave the house and not feel awful about abandoning them, because they are fine without you for a while. They’re easier to travel with. You don’t have to walk them. And despite what dog owners will tell you, cats absolutely love their people. Jonesy kisses Leah and me far more often than my dog growing up did. When I enter the room, Bella drops anything she’s doing and runs to greet me, then follows me everywhere and leaps into my lap if I sit down. There is nothing more relaxing than a cat laying on you, purring itself to sleep. It puts years back on your life.
The biggest difference between cats and dogs is how they see you. Dogs tend to look at their owners with reverence, they want to please them, they’re obedient. Cats are just not like that. Even when they love you, they don’t take orders from you, and you’re not their master. I think a lot of people just cannot get past that, and I totally understand. No one profits from dog owners being forced to get cats, or vice versa, you should have the pet that suits you. But my mistake as a kid was assuming that what fit me was secretly a little more true and correct than what fit other people.
A few years ago, one of my closest friends received the news that I loved cats with not nearly as much surprise as I expected. I pressed him, pointing out that I’d often remarked on how I hated cats. He responded that he always knew I was wrong, and was just patiently waiting for me to see it. When I asked how he knew that, he replied, “Because you are a cat.”
If there’s a lesson this post can impart, it’s that. Be careful what you hate, because sometimes it turns out to be what you secretly are.
-AA