In the 1991 movie, Hook, Granny Wendy (played by Maggie Smith) tells Peter (played by Robin Williams) he’s become a pirate after he snaps at his children for being children while he’s on a work call. While I was a 15 year old kid when that movie came out, it struck me as significant that becoming an adult was a treacherous prospect. Tootles (played by Arthur Malet) has “lost his marbles” and, therefore, forgotten how to fly. And, of course, there’s Hook (played by Dustin Hoffman). I’d argue the climax of the movie is not the big fight between Peter and Hook, it’s when Peter regains his Happy Thought and remembers how to fly. When the lost boys crow and scream, “PETER’S BACK!”
In the *cough* 20+ years that have come after that glorious movie, I have endeavored to hang onto a little piece of my childhood. If nothing else, that I might not become like all the sad adults I saw around me, living their gray, salad-eating lives; content to drive to work and home, sit in meetings, and get excited about spreadsheets and financial futures – all things that sounded absolutely awful in my teenager mind.
Fast forward a bunch of years and, I’ll confess, Excel has become my love language and I spend a LOT of time in the car, shuttling kids from one activity to another. To my teenager self, I’ve become the very thing she was so violently opposed to. But I never forgot my promise to not become a pirate.
I read fantasy novels, play DnD, have a robust online gaming life, and I have a big collection of Harry Potter and Star Wars memorabilia.
When I work from home and have Zoom or Teams calls, I’m routinely asked about my light sabers. I have a replica Elder Wand on my desk at the office, along with McGonagall’s and Voldemort’s wands (depending on which kind of “magic” they want me to work). Avada kedavra I have a prop sword in the corner of my office and EVERYBODY stops to ask about it, and my Ravenclaw robes on a hat tree.
I’ve got quite the reputation for being “quirky,” and I used to be bothered by it, but then CIRCUS-19 happened. Suddenly all of us who worked full-time in an office were quarantined to our homes. The built-in separation between our work and home lives disappeared. I hated it. Don’t get me wrong, there are nice things about working remote. Not wearing shoes, joggers and t-shirts every day, good coffee, having the dog to keep me company, and being in charge of my thermostat – for starters. But I found the ever-present laptop, a whiteboard with notes I couldn’t walk away from, and the living room or the corner of my bedroom being the same place I worked, but also where I tried to escape from work. I was miserable. To limit most of my human interaction (outside of my immediate family) to a 13″ screen for a YEAR was torture.
When we were allowed to come back into the office, I jumped at the chance to get out of my house most days. I also decided life is too short to be anything but myself and I hated the idea of hiding away all this cool stuff, or being separated from it all day long because there’s some imaginary rule that I should have outgrown everything fun by now and work spaces should be these sterile places that are as rigidly designed as brand guidelines.
SO, here I am, closer to 50 than 40 and I think have achieved my goal. Yes, I’m an adult. Yes, I spend a lot of time in the car and my workday consists of spreadsheets and financial projections, but I have a cool office. I wear my fandom around my neck and wrists, and don’t make me show you which wand I prefer.
BANGARANG
Where are your pants? 