When you reach a certain age, you forget there was a time when you were just a bundle of unsculpted potential with no back story. A time when everything was possible, before the world with its villains and heros and everyday mediocrity had its way with you.
Being a reporter can amplify the effects of world weariness by exposing you to many of life's downers that contribute to cynicism: accidents and disasters, obfuscating politicians, and the everyday challenge of just trying to be the best truth-teller you can be in an industry that's widely believed to always get the story wrong, no matter how hard you try.
But last week, a couple of things happened that gave me the equivalent of a double espresso right to the veins.
Ask a nine year old
Near the end of 2017, Virden teacher Maureen Ross assigned her class of grade fives to reflect on the past year and look ahead to the next. She sent their prose to the Empire-Advance for publication.
One of the young scribes was Parker Hunter who wrote this breathtaking tribute to optimism:
2018 will be a great year because it is a brand new, freshly baked year. 2018 will be amazing because the new year is always action packed! I mean packed to the RIM.
It’s awesome, happy, sad, exciting, scary, hot, cold, wet, you name it, it’s got it! It’s just amazing what can happen.
I think I need that tattooed on my arm.
Watch young figure skaters
Last weekend, the Funskate was on in Virden. Figure skaters were here from all across the region to show their stuff. One little sprite blew the doors off that arena and redefined the word chutzpah.
A tiny thing with glasses, pony tail and skinny legs, she wasn't a kid you'd instantly flag as a future Paige Lawrence.
But she had the music in her molecules and interpreted it with her whole body - arms, legs, hands, and face. She had clearly come to enjoy herself.
I don't know what her score from the judges was - I don't think it mattered much. Because she owned the ice for those few minutes and my silent wish was that she keeps her enthusiasm for a lifetime.
It may not be possible for a grown-up to reclaim their childhood sense of unlimited possibility. But just in case it is, I plan to watch more figure skating this year and spend more time with fifth graders.
I might even ask Maureen Ross if she'd consider conducting evening classes for ambivalent adults.
Oh, and maybe I'll look into that tattoo.
