Well they’ll consider me one, too. No wife, kids, house, car, furniture, or white goods, I live alone in a furnished apartment my employer provides. I own clothes, luggage, laptop, phone, tablet and three coffee makers (Aeropress, drip machine and cafetiere).
…and a sharp knife for cooking!
I have no sense of direction. Absolutely none. I have to memorize the entire route to anywhere to get there, and I get lost in my own city.
It’s genetic. My siblings suffer the same thing.
I was once invited to go to Vietnam with other functioning adults. That was something I could not do.
Your post made me think of this:
When my grandfather was a young man, several of the older males in the family (his uncles, father, etc) were caring for some grape vines. My grandfather tried his best to help, but was shooed away by the others, who told him that caring for grapes was terribly complicated & could only be done by adults.
many years pass
My grandfather moved into a house which had some grapes growing in the side yard. He was terrified - because, somehow, he’d made it to adulthood without having been taught how to properly care for grapes. Rather than admit defeat, he got a book & did a little reading.
Then, it finally dawned on him, four decades later, that the adults had lied. They just hadn’t wanted a loud pesky kid interrupting their conversation. It had never been about the grapes.
As for myself, I was one of the last people to become an adult before cell phones became a thing. I don’t need one before. I don’t need one now. Besides, if I did have one, people would probably try to call me. There’s just no need for that.
I don’t go to the doctor unless I’m sick. That goes for eye doctors, dentists, auto mechanics, etc. When I need one, I’m the first one in line. But, if I can see just fine, I’m not going to go to the optometrist. Nobody goes to a psychologist for a check-up. “Yes… I see… Your life is perfectly balanced… See you next year!”
My brother – a highly intelligent guy, and in most ways much more “functioning” than me – is the same. I’m not brilliant in that department, but am considerably more able therein, than him. I tend to feel: people are just “wired” various ways, and it’s often random.
sniff sniff Hello everyone. My name is DCnDC and I have never actually used an outdoor grill entirely on my own. I’ve added stuff to one that’s already been fired up and ready to go, but I’ve never done it start to finish on my own. I’ve known since childhood it’s my civic duty as an American male to do so, but I’ve simply never had to.
Additionally, if a car breaks down, I have absolutely no idea how to even begin fixing it. I realize these days that’s not so uncommon anymore, but I still feel shameful about it. All I know is I’m still obligated to open the hood and stare at it as if I have any idea what the issue could be, confidently proclaiming something like, “Probably the alternator!” or “I think the fuel pump is shot!” while having no idea what those phrases actually mean or what to do about it if that really was the problem.
My mother made me say “No thank you.”
Speaking of my mother, I sent a call of hers straight to voice mail, because I was involved in a game of Monopoly on my phone. That was not very adult of me, especially since some difficult family things are going on now, and she probably didn’t just want to chat.
I’ve never bought a house. That’s pretty weird for people of my age (46) income (middle class) and region (Omaha).
I own a suit. I haven’t worn it in, at least, 6 years, so it probably doesn’t fit any more. I don’t like suits anyway.
I’m 60 and have never been able to converse knowledgeably about sports.
In most social events, the men invariably gather in a group and talk about who did what with which ball last week. Apparently, the male-behavior-regulating-commitee met decades ago and ruled this the only allowable subject for men. For me, it means I stand around at gatherings making half-hearted attempts to join in, but am always rebuffed for violating the Prime Directive.
Other male: “Whatcha been up to pullin?”
me: “Well, I went to Kentucky last month and joined a historical cave expedition by the park service. You see, we were only allowed tools from the 1800’s and had to carry burning lanterns and explore only with period specific guideli…”
Other male: “Did ya’ll see when Buford throwed that ball yesterday?”
a little later…
Other male: “What’s goin’ on, pullin?”
me: “I’m outfitting my boat to travel the entire Laguna Madre this spring. I’m using a fuel-flow meter and measuring my total fuel requirements. It’s a really interesting flyway for bird migration and I’ve also…”
Other male: “Did anybody hear they’s tradin’ Buford cuz he couldn’t catch them balls last week?”
a little later…
Other male: “What’s shakin’ pullin?”
me: “Well, I was wandering around the deer lease in the four-wheeler last week, and I found the foundations of an old homestead. I saw some odd shaped rocks in heavy brush and measured them with a laser measure. They were in an exact rectangle and further back I found some perrenials growing in an exact straight line! These were obviously…”
Other male: “Did ya’ll see when Buford dropped that ball Sunday?”
For some reason, I simply cannot grasp the appeal of watching other men dress in matching outfits and play with balls. And my inability to master this aspect of adulthood puts me forever on the outside of male camaradarie.
Sigh. Maybe one day I’ll grow up.
Leaving the house without something being wrong with my outfit. Buttons buttoned wrong. Sweater inside out. Pant hem coming undone. Socks mismatched.
Eating food without getting all over my face.
Remembering to look in the mirror when I’m washing my hands in the restroom. This would solve most of my problems, but I always forget to do this.
Nah, just try to pay attention to ol’ Buford. You’ll be fine.
shoot, pullin, I’m with you. I understand what ol’Buford did with the ball last week, I just don’t care. Shoot <pause to spit chaw to one side> I’m more interested in yer boat, and cavin’ you say using only 1800’s tools, implements and clothing? Hell how does get any more manly than that? Y’all got MY attention friend! <spits chaw to one side> the old foundation yuh found, sounds interestin’ n’ all but I’d just keep that 'tween us two if it were me. <swigs beer> Now, tell me about this boat of yours, how long is it,in board or outboard…
My adulthood goes into failure mode when I’m temporarily responsible for children I don’t have to keep and/or clean up after.
Ice Cream/cake/cookies/brownies for Dinner/Breakfast? check
Candy for afternoon snack and after dinner dessert? check
skip naptime? check (caveat, naptime usually sneaks up and catches us anyway)
Chili for lunch? You Betcha
Toys strewn from one end of the house to the other? Yes
Toys in the ceiling mounted light fixtures? as long as not flammable/meltable
Playing in the sprinklers all afternoon with no change of clothes to ride home in mommy/daddy’s car? Every Chance I Get! (but only if it lasts to within 5 minutes of Mommy or Daddy picking up said children)
[snoopy dance]
So looking forward to being a ♫Grandpa♫
[/snoopy dance]
I’m very nearly fifty years old and have $528 saved for my retirement.
Me neither. I’ve also never bought any furniture. Unless dog beds count as furniture.
It’s too bad we can’t team up to cover each others weaknesses. I’m a fantastic navigator.
This one is scary. Do you have any plans for how you will get by in later years?
I have a few cousins, in their 70’s now, who have absolutely zilch in savings. One of them has been couch-surfing with a friend for several months now. The other lives in a rather nice apartment in San Francisco, highly subsidized by a Catholic charity.
41, Male.
I don’t drive and have no intention of learning how to. It seems that it makes me sub-human to some people, or at least not quite a real man.
I don’t own a house and probably never will.
I’m not interested in using tools and working around the house.
32, male, never had a driving license (though I’m a very good driver).