“One day I am going to etc. etc. etc.” Have you ever heard that statement come out of your own mouth? I am guilty; I have probably said that many times about different things I wanted to make, places I wanted to see, mountains I wanted to climb (figuratively speaking). But, if I have followed through and actually made, went to, or climbed even a handful of those “somedays,” I would be very surprised. There is always something more important to do right now, and that something may be as simple as mowing the lawn, washing the car, etc. The Lord only knows how many times I have mowed the lawn, washed the car, etc. Why do we always let things get in the way of doing our “someday” things? I have often, and many times, admired people who have run off and done something stupid (what I might have thought was stupid). Yet, it was the very thing that I wanted to do. Something that was just so crazy to me that anyone in their right mind would never spend their money on, their time doing or going to. But! There I was, red jealous (or whatever color jealous is), and envious, wishing that I had the ignorance and the wasteful attitude that would allow me to do the same thing. Me! No way would I ever waste the time, the money, the wear and tear on my vehicle, etc., etc., etc. doing something so frivolous, so unproductive, and besides, somebody might get hurt. If you would have asked me to find a reason not to do a “someday thing,” I could find not only one, but I could come up with a dozen reasons or excuses not to do it, or whatever it is, on that list of things that “someday I am going to.”
Practicality is the poison that kills adventure; it kills those “someday plans,” and my whole being was full of that particular poison. Those who are, sooner or later become complacent, and the excitement, the adrenaline that once ran through their veins, has completely and totally dissipated, and cholesterol has replaced it.
Then one day, I was talking with a friend. He was telling me about his little off road vehicles (I believe he called them “four-wheelers”), vehicles that he takes up into the mountains and rides all around on rough and muddy trails, seeing wild animals and beautiful scenery. I had just retired, and I had plans to work on family history with my sweetheart, and I wanted to remodel the house, and I wanted to, to, to, and to. Then one day, that friend called me and asked me if I wanted to use one of his machines and ride some mountain trails. I started to tell him no because I had important things I needed to do (mow the lawns, wash the car, etc.), but he kept after me until I was worn thin and finally consented. We “had a blast,” as one of my sons would say, and I wanted more of it. I didn’t know when or how I would ever find the time, but I wanted more of it. My mind was still saying to me, It is a waste of time; you have too many things you have to do to play around up into the mountains. But it sure was fun. One day I was downtown, and I happened to find myself behind the mall where they sold these four-wheelers. It just so happened that they had a used one on sale for a reasonable price. I drove it around their lot, and it seemed tight and solid, and without even conferring with the “boss,” I bought it. You wouldn’t believe the rationale that I had going through my pointy head on the way home to justify that purchase to my sweetheart. When I got there, I found out that I wouldn’t have had to say a thing—because she could see the “little boy” shining in my face and figured if it could do that for me, it was well worth it. I can’t believe to this day that I busted through that hard line of defense I had built up against all those frivolous “someday I am going to do” things. But! I did it. I did it! It was a little expensive; it was time consuming; I could have gotten hurt; I could have, have, have, etc. Most of all it was impractical, but “it was fun.” “It was so much fun,” and I felt like a different man on top of that machine. My whole life has been guided by the practical. “I had a lot of fun.” Would I ever recommend something like that, a “someday thing” to anyone else, something that is so impractical? You bet I would. Go for it!
However, I was moderate, I exercised self control, I was never totally carried away with four-wheeling like my friends were. I didn’t need a “fix” every weekend. My friends went out every Saturday, while my adventures with them were usually one Saturday a month. “I had fun.”
My greatest adventure is still Family History. I have almost as much of a thrill in researching and finding a lost relative as I do on the trail. I believe that balance and variety in life are important and that a person can become numb to any thrilling adventure when they are too frequently exposed to it. May we all try to follow the advice of the wise and maintain moderation in all things. Moderation allows us to do the “should do” things as well as some of the “someday things.” That way duty and off duty are both satisfied.