My Next Great Adventure: Wedge Wegman

I think we all have those people in our lives that we wish we could see more of, whether they live in the same neighborhood or on the other side of the globe. Wedge Wegman is one of those people for me. I met Wedge in Philly in the Fall of 2009 when Wooden Shoe Books was moving 2 blocks down South Street to its current location. She had a pickup truck out front that a group of us loaded up with boxes of books and other remnants from the old space. Since then, Wedge and I have become friends through our mutual love of punk rock and baseball. She is one of the most generous and inspiring people I've met in Philly and since I've recently moved down the street from her, I'm hoping we'll see a lot more of each other.

Check out Wedge's company Sickening Thud Productions, online at: sickeningthud.com

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How can I be writing about turning 30?  I still feel like I’m a teenager sometimes. Like I’m fresh out of high school and ready to make my own way out in the world.

But, then it hits me. I’m almost three decades old. Fuck….I still have anxiety dreams about forgetting my locker combination and getting lost on my way to history class. You’d think that by now the dreams would have shifted to some real life anxiety, like getting hit by a car while riding my bike. But, no, my mind hasn’t wrapped itself around the idea that I’m an adult.

I cried on the night before my 13^th birthday. I had no desire to grow up. NONE! And a 12-year-old me thought that on that annual day around 6am I would magically become an adult. By the time I graduated high school I figured adulthood would find me when it wanted to. So, I stopped worrying about it.

While I waited for that inevitable day of maturity, I started my life. Instead of fretting about the unknown, I enjoyed living. And somewhere along the way, I forgot to be scared to grow older. Because it doesn’t mean I have to grow up.

And I absolutely refuse to grow up.

What does that mean, anyway? 60 years ago, if you hadn’t married, spawned, and bought a house in the suburbs by 30 then people wondered what was wrong with you. But today we see more and more people living the single life, going to school for multiple degrees, traveling the world with nothing but a backpack…..things that would have made our great-grandparents uninvite us over for the holidays. 

What is the standard of maturity in our society today? Most people I know would agree that, for a HEALTHY adult, you reach maturity when you no longer rely on someone else to care for you. At least I’ve accomplished THAT in my 30 years.

My mother worries about me. I know she does, even though she tries to deny it, because she buys me socks and underwear. (One important lesson I’ve learned in life is to ALWAYS accept a gift of socks and/or underwear!) But, I pay my bills and I keep a roof over my head. Not growing up doesn’t mean that I can’t take care of myself. I just might not have the life that my parents think I should have built for myself by my 30^th year.

I’ve kept my cat alive for 3 years now. That’s got to count for something, right?

Remember that time when anything was possible and you were gonna do EVERYTHING and go EVERYWHERE!? Well, I still get that way all the time. There’s just so much left in the world to visit and experience.

I’m not bothered about turning 30. Fuck, if Fox Mulder was able jump on moving trains full of aliens when he was in his 30’s, then I’ve got nothing to fear. BRING IT ON! My 30’s are just my next great adventure. The next chapter in my story.

Lately, I’ve been hearing some chatter from the Evangelists on the street. It seems that they believe their savior is coming back to town on May 21, 2011. But, I’m here to set the record straight. Jeezus is not coming to take anyone up to their everlasting utopian bliss. He’s coming into Philly to celebrate my 30^th birthday. I invited him because he does these neat party tricks and I won’t have to spend much on alcohol.

It’s gonna be one hell of a shindig!