Ahh, youth

Written by Anika Henrikson

I like to think very few of my childhood quirks have survived the rigors of adulthood. I want to know that I've matured in both mannerism and mentality. That the things I once had no tolerance for are now a part of my daily life. Like appreciating a Woody Allen movie or actually getting a Monty Python joke.

For instance, my blind hatred of onions and mustard vanished when I entered my 20s. Hating the taste of certain condiments was simply too inconvenient. I now enjoy a savory honey mustard with chicken and love onions on everything except pizza (some foods should remain sacredly plain). Having to specially order foods should be something reserved for small children and folks with severe allergies. My intense dislike of mushrooms, however, is intact.

This philosophical train of thought comes on the heels of beginning editorial work on our second-ever Kids Issue. It has me thinking about other peoples' kids and, most importantly, me as a kid. Nobody in Bakersfield knew me before the age of 23, but I bet some people in Idaho would have a thing or two to say about who I was as a youngin' and what's changed. It's got me wondering, too.

I no longer yearn to marry Fred Savage, live in a pink house, and drive a pink car. At some point, you just have to realize the impracticality of your desires. For me, that happened around the age of nine. I must have thought to myself, “Anika, you live in a small town in Idaho, far from the Hollywood golden boys you worship. Meeting and subsequently marrying said heartthrobs is about as likely as an ABBA comeback tour.” This realization coincided with my growing weary of The Wonder Years reruns and a newfound appreciation of both Macaulay Culkin and ABBA. Not only was this toe-head more my age, but his snarky, devil-may-care attitude (as depicted in both Home Alone films) was more my style. Plus, I knew I couldn't compete with Winnie Cooper. I felt it would be far more likely that I'd marry Mr. Culkin. Thus began another round of scrounging for change to buy Bop and Tiger Beat magazines.

Boys and food preferences aside, it's sometimes strange to think about how you've changed since you were in elementary school. How has your personality changed? What's even more frightening is knowing you haven't changed that much.

So while I like to think I've matured, and that my “pout-fests” have decreased in number, I also realize that the things I loved are still things I treasure. In other words, I might like some of the things I once detested, but I haven't ever stopped liking the things I admired as a kid. I still love to blast ABBA in my car, I still harbor a (not so) secret love of Macaulay Culkin and Fred Savage. I still prefer my pizza to be onion-free. I still feel a surge of envy when I drive by someone in a pink car.

Call it nostalgia, call it a fondness for dancing to “Lay All Your Love On Me” on your Grandmother's coffee table. Call it whatever you want...just don't forget what you liked as a kid. And don't forget to revel in those things every chance you get. Even if that means eating highly-caloric roasted marshmallows with your mom and your cousin.

I loved it then (my grin is proof of that) and I love it now.