Colorful math

Life is short.  And we have one go at it.  A lifetime is a long time, but when you think about it, it’s really not that much time.  I almost had my ticket punched in my 20s and at 41, so maybe I’m more sensitive to that than most people, but I do think about stuff like that.  And not in a political or “we need to do more with life” kind of way.  In… IDK.  In a way.  Read to the end, you’ll see.

I’ve been doing some napkin math recently.  I thought some of you might enjoy that; some of you for the math, some for the insights into my thoughts, and some just for the fun of it.

The average person lives approximately 80 years.  However, the start of life is focused on growing, developing, and becoming.  Let’s call that the first 5 years.  That leaves us with a 75 year period.

I’ve read that “you sleep a third of your life.”  Yeah yeah.  A lot of that is in those end years and first years; I’d say most people are more like 20/25%, not 33%.  At 25%, that’s 18.75 years.  Let’s round that to 20 years, just for nice round numbers.  Besides, 1.25 years is roughly 456.25 days.  Multiply that by 24 and you get about 11,000 hours.  That, over 75 years, is approx 6.75 minutes a day.  So, enjoy that extra 7 minutes of sleep.

Then, at least in developed countries, school will take up 12 years of life.  Private and parochial schools usually have uniforms or uniform dress codes and a lot of public schools have codes and restrictions.   They also have required attendance and then factor in after school clubs/activities, etc etc.

We’re at 32 years so far.  That’s assuming no college, although collage usually gives a bit more freedom, so let’s just factor in 2 years for higher education or trade education/training.  Now we’re 34.  We’ve got 41 years left.  Yikes!

Well now… we’ve got to eat, cook, clean, shower, self care and let’s not forget work, commute to work, and earn that money.  We’re 34!

Let’s say we work until 65 leaving us 10 years.  No fun!

Instead, let’s really look at that.  

31 years working.  That’s 11,315 days, not factoring in leap years.  Over 31 years, there could be between 7 and 9 leap years, depending on what year you are born and the process starts.  Let’s call it 11, 320, just for round numbers.  Factor in holidays, vacations, time off, weekends, etc etc.  First, 8 weekend days in a month for rough numbers.  That’s 96 days a year.  Holidays, vacay and the like, we’ll use the US standard and not the Euro standard and we come up with an average (US Dept of Labor) of 33.5 days based on National Holidays and average PTO granted (data years 1990-1999 and 2010-2019 averaged).  Remember, we’re living 75 years and working 31 of them.  Wanted to give the data points some spread, so using my own lifeline make it easy for me.  Again, for nice round numbers, let’s round that up to 34, plus our 96 weekend days and we get 130 days.  That’ll give us another 4,030 days.  Again, divide that by 365 and we get 11 years (of 11.041, but rounding).  That’s buying the “working” time down to 20.

I’m comfortable with that.

So, in 75 years, we have 10 at the end to “retire” with and another 20 years mixed in for ourselves.  30 years out of 75.  That’s 40%.  We have 40% of our lives for ourselves.

Think about that for a moment.  I mean… Don’t just shrug at that.  REALLY think about that.  

People look at me and my colors, style, how we live, expatriating, all of it and they have something to say.  Why?!?  You have 40% of your life, 30 total years.  Go and enjoy it.  

Because I enjoy my watermelon shoes.  My Spiderman shoes.  My electric shoes.  I love that Kiddo wants more than 30 years and starts now.  Last year she dyed her hair pink and blue.  Before that, she loved to mix-match her shoes or socks when she would go to Miss Mabel’s.

My point is…. Be YOU!  Like that “shitty” movie.  Listen to the music you like, even if no one else in your circle does.  Wear bright colors.  Dye your hair or cut it like you like.  Get a tat.  

I’m not saying we should all be lawless, but we should all be us.  Growing up, I constantly heard about what others were doing, how they dressed, saw my family, my peers, looking down on people with a funky style or tats or dyed hair.  

I AM that person, now.  The tatted up funky dressed dude. I’m planning on getting a full sleeve on my right arm and a half on my left leg.  I’m 50 (again, rounding) so that means I’ve got 25 years left.  Statistically and actuarial math speaking, I’ve got much less that that and (as noted in the beginning) I’ve almost already had my ticket punched.  So, why not?

And why not teach Kiddo the same thing.  Not to judge, but to be.  She wants to like RHCP, good on her!  She’s got electric blue Docs, good on her.  She wants to grow her hair to her knees…. Good on her.  None of the detracts from WHO she is.  None of that takes away the life she’s had and will have.  None of it takes away the books she reads, will read, maybe even write one day.  The songs she hums or will compose.  None of it matters, as long as she is a good person.  Kind.  Caring.  Genuine.  I think about Nanny Beer losing her purse last spring for the few minutes it was missing.  Kiddo offered Beer her birdie bank and all of her baht.  She was 6.  Did her hair color or mix-matched socks matter?  Did my tats and funky style?  

Just be you.  Even if you need to conform for work and so you can be you, find a way.  Get the tat on your shoulder that no one but you and close friends/significant other knows about.  Dress funky on the weekends and in your 130 days a year.  Hell, dye your chest hair, if that floats your boat.  Go watch Hudson Hawk (hey Doc J) and listen to some K-Pop before indulging in a burger and milkshake or have a slice of pizza.

We decided to see the globe and take Kiddo with us to see and learn from it.  To make friends with Thai folks, Chinese folks, Korean folks, Filipino folks, to not judge, to be her and not someone or something else.  Don’t hurt people.  Don’t judge people.  Doesn’t mean she needs to like everyone, but know them before you have an opinion on them.  

We’ve been judged, J and I, for this life.  A LOT of people had some things to say.  That we were selfish.  That I was selfish.  That I’m milking J and living off her.  That I dress and act like I do to avoid work and responsibilities.  That’s fine.  If you want to think that, think that.  J, Kiddo, and I know different.  Doc J, Schmittah, Jesters, and our friends (who are more family to us than our family is) know the truth of it.  Know the reality of it.  Know Kiddo and how unique, creative, and special she is and how that is because of us, our attitude, and the adventure we are on.  

Let’s go Kiddo…. Time is a gift and we only have so much of it.  Let’s spend less time worrying about others and more worrying about how we are going to have some fun today.  Let’s have an adventure.  Let’s see something new.  Let’s listen to your playlist, even if I don’t like some of the “mumma music” on it.  Let’s wear mix-matched clothes and colors and have a blast.  Let’s be peacocks and show how unique, colorful, and special we really are.  I’ll be right at your side the whole time, trying to out funky you and loving you as I realize that I can’t out do you, because you are already that much better than I am.