The more I think about it, the more I believe that adults don’t grow up; rather, adults make choices to leave behind the games and spontaneity of childhood and adolescence. In some instances it is necessary, but it seems to create a more predictable adulthood that can lack excitement.

Recently I’ve had a couple memorable moments where instead of making the logical decision and keeping life simple, I decided to follow an impulse. While the stories were in very different circumstances, both end results were the same: goofy grins and funny memories.

After finishing up my winter’s work near Sacramento, I stopped by Seattle (as I do) partially to visit Matt, one of my closest friends. He has access to some beautiful property near Snoqualmie Falls, so we camped for a night and went for some short hikes the following day.

One of our walks took us down by the river, which led me to immediately announce, “I want to jump in the river!”

Without a swimsuit, that seemed like a lost opportunity. The water just looked SOO refreshing, though, and so when Matt showed me the swimming hole, part of me knew I was doomed. The 2 of us sat on a rock in the river just off the bank, talking about whatever topics came to mind. A couple mergansers were having fun diving and floating in the river’s current; some people were starting a casual float down the river. The longer we sat there, the more I touched the water: first with my hands, then submerging my arms and exclaiming how cold it was. “What’s holding you back?” Matt asked.

What indeed. I’m not at all a fan of wearing wet clothes, so the prospect of hiking while drenched did not seem appealing. Although I have some smart genes, it took me awhile to realize something very obvious. There was no reason I couldn’t strip to my skivvies, which are essentially a swimsuit, and then put dry clothes back on top.

Decision made, I just had to get my boots and socks off. Being one who doesn’t test the waters and enter slowly, I stood with my hands ready to strip off my clothes, and before I could think about it any longer, I was free and fully jumping in extremely chilly water. Apparently the current was moving enough and the water cold enough that my eyes bugged out a bit, and I accepted Matt’s hand before I could get swept anywhere.

Yes, I was very cold, but I was also Alert and Living!

I spent a little time in the water before clambering back on top of the sunny rock. As I shivered in the warming sunshine, I couldn’t help but smile as I felt happy for taking advantage of life’s opportunities and my Finnish blood.

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Every now and then I make visits to Fairbanks and temporarily re-join the community. This time around I just happened to catch the weekend for Puccini’s opera “Turandot.” Since a friend plays in the Fairbanks Symphony Orchestra and there are few operas in the Bering Sea, I decided I should take advantage of a free ticket and pretend to be civilized for once. After a brief visit “home” (storage), I elected to shower rather than eat.

As I sat through Act I with friends Scott and Alesha, I realized that not eating beforehand had been a bad choice. While the music of the symphony, the power of the voices, and the acting on stage were entertaining; a hungry pit was growing in my stomach. Upon looking through the program during Intermission, I learned that this production featured not two, but rather three full acts. There was no way I was going to make it that long with such a rumbling stomach!

Fortunately I’d been joined by 2 equally hungry friends who are also pre-disposed to eating Pub nachos. Before Intermission I could finish, Alesha had called the UAF Pub to find out how difficult it might be to grab an order of nachos during the 2nd intermission. With only 15 minutes to work with, we knew our timing would be tight.

As the house lights rose at the end of the 2nd Act, the three of us were already moving toward the aisle. We ran through the doors, away from the Davis Concert Hall, along a sidewalk, down some stairs, and inside the lower level of the Wood Center. Scott and I flashed our IDs at the entrance as we reached the door and then made our way to the bar where, fortunately, there was no line. “1 large nachos!” I requested, as I pulled out my wallet to pay.

“It’ll be about 5 minutes,” came the reply.

We could, and did, work with that. Forgoing any beer, we accepted our cardboard tray of nachos and returned to the grassy area near Turtle Sex Park to quickly scarf down our late dinner as we watched through the doors of the Great Hall for signs that the 2nd intermission was ending. Though slightly out of breath and hurriedly eating, we were all smiles and laughter. Seriously, who eats Pub nachos during intermission of a world famous opera?! We did somehow manage to consume all but the messy remaining chili bits before dashing inside and returning to our seats – even before the choir had fully returned to the stage. Victory was ours!

Would I have enjoyed the river without jumping in? Absolutely. Would I have made it through the opera without Pub nachos? Probably.

Yet without those unexpected occurrences, my smile wouldn’t have been quite as big.