Southwest Kansas Register

On my 39th birthday, a woman told me that she never would have guessed I was as old as I was. I smiled and thanked her, glad to know I had retained some of my youthful looks.

"It’s not the way you look," she quickly added, "it’s the way you act."

Houston, we have a problem.

There is no compliment so great, no award so significant, that the utterance of a few strategically positioned words can’t send you plummeting right back down to earth.

I just turned 41, and although I still retain the 12-year-old within, cynicism is slowly eating away at me, forcing me to grow old before my time. It’s not an entirely bad thing. Most people keep their inner child tucked safely away. I tend to let mine out far too often, and sometimes at inappropriate times.

Have you ever started to say something, and before the sentence is completed you realized that what you’re saying is a) about to be seriously misinterpreted, b) not nearly as funny as it sounded when you thought of it last night, or c) by pure coincidence, the same thing Hitler uttered to Eva Braun when he bumped into her at a Tupperware party?

My mouth has caused me more embarrassment than I care to remember, entirely because I try way too hard to inject humor when I’m not really always all that funny. I have, time and time again, faced a table full of morbidly serious faces after attempting to inject a bit of humor into a meeting.

At 41, I have to say that the fog is finally lifting. Cynicism has begun to sweep away the child in me. With the help of cynicism’s stepsister, anger, and its second cousin on its mother’s side, frustration, my inner-child is being replaced with curmudgeonhood.

Here’s an example: Does any adult actually like being sung "Happy Birthday" to by his co-workers? For a child, it’s great. It’s like suddenly being elevated to royalty. But for an adult? I spent my birthday at a workshop with my co-workers. A couple of times they started to break into song just to see the look of horror on my face as I did a swan dive behind a desk.

Another example? The other morning I was eating Cream of Wheat cereal and watching the news when there appeared on TV a man with a tiny electric razor delicately trimming his nostril-hairs. Every time I’m eating breakfast I get treated to this commercial. Don’t they know it’s breakfast time? In my family, the traditional nostril-hair-trimming hour was always between 9 and 10 p.m. It’s just gross! That’s what it is!

And then a few weeks ago I went to a 10-minute oil-change place. After a few minutes the mechanic came over and listed off a dozen things wrong with my truck that, by the way, they could fix right there and then for about $280.

Learning what’s wrong with my vehicle takes intense psychological preparation and at least two weeks of prescribed medication. I took my truck to a 10-minute oil change place because I didn’t want to know what else was wrong. Please, just CHANGE THE OIL!

Then there’s politics. For a child, politics are about as interesting as Aunt Mabel’s corns. But for adults? This presidential race provides the perfect example. How can any of us fully support either presidential candidate without a flood of cynicism? Is either one the beacon of hope for humanity they claim to be? Not even close. We deserve more. We deserve better.

In this kind of climate, cynicism is the norm. Confusion is typical.

Real discussion means dismissing party labels and debating all issues honestly and with equal intensity. Instead, we see on the news those party cyborgs using twisted logic, exaggerations, or outright lies to justify their argument.

As Hitler and Stalin knew, people will believe a big lie if told often enough.

I see the daily reports of dead soldiers, dead Iraqis, beheadings, bombs, and kidnappings; I see people mindlessly embracing the actions of leaders that are so very far from what Christ (or Mohammed) taught.

Christ told us to put away the things of childhood, but he also said we should come to him with the innocence of a child. Sadly, when we embrace anything at all but the loving and clear teachings of Christ, that’s the very child we are killing.