Column:

Finding your calling, or at least a good suit

By Ryan Beck

Published Aug. 31, 2007

I woke up today — like most days, for that matter — but today I was hit with a reality-sized brick: I am getting old. But I don't know what "old" really means. Clearly, I am not as old as "old people," but I am older than others. I remember when I was little and I would see people about the age I am now and think, "Wow, grown-ups."

But what is a grown-up? A guy with a really nice suit? That is what it was when I was 8 years old. Then, I thought to myself, "One day, I'm going to have a suit, and I am going to know what the hell I am doing with my life. I'm going to have a purpose and everything will be great."

Here I am, almost halfway through college, and all I really want to do is "kid stuff." No matter how old you are, sprinklers are fun to sit on, kickball is a great sport and when people fart, it's funny.

Regardless, I still don't own a suit, and I think the day I buy one is the day I look at myself in the mirror and say, "You still have no idea what you're doing." But maybe this is what life is: Just not knowing what you're doing.

I can't find anyone who has it figured out, and the minute I do, I will be sure to tell you. I feel overwhelmed at times, though.

I keep getting credit cards mailed to me. I do not want credit cards; I want ice cream. They should mail that to me. Also, when did peanut butter and jelly become unpopular? Why do I feel like I'm missing out on something?

I think about the people I have met, and I think about all the things I have screwed up. But now, I can't help but laugh.

Sure, I feel terrible for peeing in that Super Soaker when I was 7 years old, but that little bastard down the street deserved it. After all, he stole my Donatello action figure.

I met a homeless man who smells like pee and hangs out around a grocery store where I used to live. He harps on and on about how life has been so hard on him. He tells everyone that the world is ending. He shouts at the sky, and nobody answers him. But, does that mean nobody is listening?

Maybe he is right. Perhaps everyone should just stop now and just yell at things and take without giving back. But maybe there is something everyone, no matter if he or she is wearing a suit or something stained in urine, is supposed to find in his or her life.

For all I know, smelling of pee and yelling at the sky could be that dude's calling. I can't be one to judge. As far as finding my own calling, I guess the problem could be that I'm just looking too hard.

I don't know what is right or wrong anymore. I don't think anyone can be so sure. I just joined a church parish merely for the convenient parking. Does this make me a bad person? Well, actually, I guess that one is pretty clear — I am a terrible person.

I guess what it comes down to is that I might not ever be able to do the right thing or find my calling. I just want to be happy. Sure, I know I sound ridiculous right now, and I know you are thinking, "Seriously dude, where did your balls go?" or "What did this guy take?"

Well, it is real cold in here, and apparently, whatever it was, it was not enough. But maybe that's the whole thing: Life could just be about being happy. Or maybe it's about making other people happy. Or maybe, just maybe, I'll figure this all out after I go suit shopping.