The importance of being (not too) earnest

The importance of being ( not too ) earnest

As a kid growing up in the 60’s I found it very easy to adapt to living outside the normal confines of the burdensome social obligations, or for that matter any form of structure.
While most other kids were obsessed with being a part of a click and fitting in, I was looking for a way out. My dad owning a children’s summer camp that was populated by wealthy middle and upper class Jewish kids was just another obstacle that I could not relate to, it was more of the same. I think it was Marlon Brando when asked in The Wild Ones  “ what are you rebelling against?”, his answer was, “ what do ya got?”.
For me I had an infinite amount of choices. I was a kid in a candy store of rebellion, not always easy but was a much more colorful choice than what I saw around me.
One summer when I was 14 the Beatles and the Stones hit the U.S. like an atomic bomb. I was my fathers worst nightmare. All the kids at camp were clean and proper all proud and happy to be wearing the camp uniforms and the  conformity that came with it. Opening day I rolled into camp with long hair and Beatle boots shocking my old man who hadn’t seen me in a month. There was one other kid my age who’s hair was also long, you know, hanging just below the top of his ears, we quickly became friends and partners in crime.
 All the other kids did not look , act or breath like us. My dad saw this and we had to be taken out of the picture of this other wise perfect little example of conformity, immediately. We are chauffeured into town to the only barber shop within what seemed like a thousand miles, and this guy, well lets just say he was no stylist.
My dad told him to shave it short and he’d be back to pick us up in an hour. Fortunately the “ barber “ had another “client” in the chair which gave me time to think and devise a plan. I asked my new friend where he lived and if his parents were home. He lived about a hundred miles away and no his parents were not home they were in Europe for the summer. Splendid ! What a stroke of luck, a plan was hatched and we were no sooner out the door and hitched a ride in that direction. I can only imagine my fathers face when he came back to find his son had just run away with a camper in tow. I have no regrets for the person I was and glad to not be a part of those confines, those were not my people and at that age I needed something more. Experiences like this gave me the attitude and strength to question and look at my alternatives, and has helped me immensely on how I deal with cancer and mortality.
I’d like to thank Oscar Wilde, Baudelaire and Rock n Roll for setting me on the right path.