It's Cool, I feel Alive
At the age of 25 I am in a demographic that is beginning to produce the next demographic. Some of us are starting families. Some of us will take a bit more time to sort things out. Still others have expressed an unaccountable reluctance or even complete revulsion to the concept of children. I'm writing to disabuse those that hold this childish notion.
As an older brother and an early breaker in a tsunami of cousins I've had a number of opportunities to see kids growing up. Let me tell you, kids are awesome. The wee ones absorb ideas like sponges and are game to try nearly anything. Ask a kid if they want to play karaoke basketball and they won't hesitate. Because youth is the kindling of the creativity, the soils of change. We need adaptive souls like this to spice up life as we cement into our adult exoskeletons.
But, the real reason that one really ought to consider kids in the future, is because fate has conspired against us. Allow me to explain: Over the course of the last 3.9 billion years or so there has been a thin strain of nucleic acids which has been moving with some modification through a series hosts into the now and hereafter. This thread of life is our connection to weak pools of pre-biotic matter churning in the mild radioactive glow of a young earth. And he is one hell of a gambler. For billions of generations this mad gambler has put everything on the line in an all out bid for immortality. He has seen his brothers, sisters, aunts, and uncles all fall from selection's good graces. Yet despite hardship, the gambler has persevered.
Imagine if you can this waifish character ponying up to the roulette table of life and going double or nothing for a billion of spins. And if you can get a sense for the total impossibility of this, the mad winning eyes of this hell bent gambler then you can begin to understand the waif thin virus of nucleic acid that defines your atomic essence, the life force, the mad winner.
And it is a respect and awe for this force that I must warn all of us entering the long plateau of middle-life that try as we might it will be awfully damn hard to prevent this mad gambler from feeding his addiction. He's spun a billion spins, he's not likely to want to cash out now.