Carefree thrill-seekers

I fancy myself a bit of a thrill-seeker. I fantasize about jumping out of an airplane...driving a Lamborghini at 140 miles per hour…surfing a killer wave…cruising on the back of a motorcycle without a helmet…moving to Europe on a whim…or just packing up our stuff and moving to another state.

Being a working mother of two doesn't often allow the opportunity to indulge in my inner fantasies. Not to mention, the thought of actually hurting myself! But these were the dreams of a young woman. Living my life to the fullest! Testing my limits!

Somehow, as we get older, and more responsible and dependable, we let go some of our young-and-careless wishes. I don’t think it’s a conscious decision; it’s just a fact of life when reality sets in that we have to prepare lunches, commute to work, and get the groceries. We put aside what we’d like to do for what we have to do. But once in a while, wouldn’t it be nice to go back to being a carefree teenager again?

When was the last time you and your girlfriends drove around with no particular destination in mind? Remember those days in high school when you'd have a whole afternoon to do absolutely nothing but whatever felt right at the moment?

Hit the beach, maybe a game of volleyball, grab a bite to eat, visit a friend, get some ice cream, listen to your favorite song and just cruise. My friends and I would put tons of miles on my Fiero. No place was too far to drive…nothing was off-limits because we had a vehicle to take us wherever we wanted to go.

The most important item of the day was whether we had good tunes for the joyride to nowhere. Life was as simple as a sunny day, the right mix-tape and a full tank of gas. Perhaps a Diet Coke, Doritos and a pack of cigarettes too. (Because remember, this was high school...)

Thrilling back then was doing donuts in the bank park lot in your mother's car. Or spending the whole night at the beach when you were supposed to be sleeping at your friend’s house. Or having a giant slumber party at the Embassy Suites after homecoming. Or caravanning with a dozen of your best friends to Spring Break. Or sneaking out of your house at night like a CIA agent to meet your boyfriend. Or getting into a nightclub with your fake ID. And who didn’t try “dine and dash” at Denny’s at 3am at least once?

I’d even went as far as to help a friend spray paint (or “tag”) a highway sign over I-75 that read “J loves Jeff”. That was so very thrilling…not to mention dangerous and illegal. But when we were caught up in the moment, both with red, flushed cheeks of excitement, we felt very much alive and happy—no, thrilled—with living life. It was a rush, a high, that lasted several weeks, especially every time we drove underneath that sign on the overpass.

The scales of “thrilling” has changed for me over the years. Now, I’m thrilled when my first grader gets her first “A” on her spelling test. I’m thrilled when I get away once a year with my best girlfriends. I’m thrilled when the Friday night traffic on my way home is light. I’m thrilled when I score a new pair of shoes on sale.

The thrills may be a whole lot less adventurous than they used to be, but the thrills of daily life, love and family are just as much fun. I guess that’s what they call “with age comes wisdom.” The acceptance and understanding that I may not ever get to bungee jump off a bridge but I still can find excitement in my life. It’s just a matter of changing one’s perspective. Of course, though, when I’m vacationing in Hawaii later this month, you can be sure that I’ll be looking for a hand gliding adventure over a volcano or something like that. Because the glass-bottomed helicopter tour probably won’t be thrilling enough.