Opinions And Ramblings By Adam Kmiec On All Things

So Maybe I’ll Climb Everest

Young Adam

“First of all Rat, you never let on how much you like a girl. “Oh, Debbie. Hi.” Two, you always call the shots. “Kiss me. You won’t regret it.” Now three, act like wherever you are, that’s the place to be. “Isn’t this great?” Four, when ordering food, you find out what she wants, then order for the both of you. It’s a classy move. “Now, the lady will have the linguini and white clam sauce, and a Coke with no ice.” And five, now this is the most important, Rat. When it comes down to making out, whenever possible, put on side one of Led Zeppelin IV.

I remember when my dad turned 40. I thought he was so old. The grey started to appear. It was barely noticeable but noticeable enough to know things were changing. He carried a few more pounds. But, when I think about it, what really made him seem old was the fact he talked more about my future than his own.

40 seemed like a lifetime away. As I celebrate 40 trips around the sun, my first thought is, wow, that went by fast. Too fast, to be honest. Is half my life actually over? Wow, but there’s still so much more to do and so much I haven’t even started to explore.

I’m not sure I have it all figured out and I’m definitely not sure what the right thing is to say. But, I get the feeling that when you turn 40, you’re supposed to say something of meaning.

Kids can be cruel. As a kid, I was called camel jockey, sand nigger, spic, and yes, much worse. I don’t believe children are born mean. I really do believe that they become what we teach them and show them. At 40, I don’t look back and think negatively about those kids who bullied me. I instead think this is what happens when our children don’t have positive role models to look up to. Our responsibility as parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and family friends should be to set a positive example for the children in our lives.

If you can count your great friends, on one hand, you’re fortunate. My mom would drill this message into my head repeatedly. Earlier this year when I created my last will and testament, I felt fortunate to have 5 great friends who resemble family and whom I’d trust to take care of Cora and John, should something unfortunate happen.

Show the world your character and you will have no regrets. Show up early. Do what you say. Open the door for others. Ask, “how can I help?” Share your talents with others. Have principles and don’t compromise on them. I’ve known Karen and MJ for nearly 18 years. I’ve always marveled at their warmth, honesty, and compassion. I think of them as family. For 18 years, they’ve shown me that if you show the world who you really are, some may shun you, some may be bothered by the real you, but some will embrace you. Treasure those people.

When in doubt, always buy the shoes, take the trip, drink the top-shelf liquor, and say “yes” to that which gives you the butterflies. The best stories and most vibrant memories come from when we stop thinking about life and simply start living it. “You’ll never believe what happened, right after you left” is a sentence to avoid. Your life will be more fulfilled if you’re the one stating it, instead of being on the receiving end.

Life isn’t short, it’s long. People will tell you differently I disagree. There’s time. It’s never too late to make amends, forgive, admit you were wrong, ask for forgiveness, love, start over, or change who you are. As more and more time lapses it gets harder to right wrongs or summon the courage needed, but there’s time.

At 40, I’m satisfied, I’m happy, I’m fulfilled. I’m all of those things at 40 more than I was at 30, 21, 18, 13, and any age in between. I have 2 kids that I love beyond words and who offer me joy that hearts weren’t built to accept. I have friends who bring me smiles as I watch them navigate life. I have family that frustrates me, inspires me, and reminds me that we are all connected to something bigger.

To quote Anthony Hopkins in “Meet Joe Black”, “…I’m going to break precedent and tell you my one candle wish: that you would have a life as lucky as mine, where you can wake up one morning and say, “I don’t want anything more.”