I wanna be a rock star.
Or whatever they call them damn metrosexual vocalists who just yell, dance and basically make girls panties fall off nowadays.
Yeah, yeah I know. I know.
I dont have "the gift". I cant sing a tune if my life depended on it. And neither can I take to the dance floor without bludgeoning someone's feet.
But I know I'd succeed where countless other idol-wannabes have tried. **evil grin**
So what if I cant sing? So what if I cant dance? I have two things up my sleeve that'll make sure I make it big in MTV -- Drop dead gorgeous looks. And a good enough denial of reality.
Videoke... Do your worst!
Seriously. As a kid, I never really wanted to be a rockstar. Or an entertainer. Or even a blogger that bastardized everything around him.
I wanted to be a scientist. I wanted to create the cure for cancer, invent something that will create world peace or even save the world from a race of evil aliens hell-bent on turning humanity into a bunch of brain-eating zombies.
Or if I couldnt be a scientist, I'd be something like Indiana Jones (ok so technically he WAS a scientist) scouring the world for ancient artifacts that would benefit humanity... which someone would steal later on and give me the excuse to whip the asses of a thousand bad guys and run off with yet another nubile young sidekick.
But I digress. I had big dreams then. Noble dreams that would make me leave my mark in history as the Legendary Figure most idolized by guys and most swooned over by girls.
I wanted to be a scientest.
As a kid I looked for stuff out of the ordinary and started bringing them home. Rocks, crystals, plants, spices, shells and other items that caught my interest. With or without their owner's permissions of course.
At four, I spurned Sesame Street and Batibot and instead got immersed early on in books about science, encyclopedias and other nerdy stuff. And so it was that during the Pre-Jurassic Park era, I was the 5-year old who shamelessly taught my Kindergarten teacher the difference between a T-Rex and a Stegosaurus in front of her class (She remembers me until now. Shuddering.)
I played with fire early on- creating flame throwers from cans WD-40 and some other household chemicals, happily noting down which particular combinations fried the garden toads and salamanders the fastest.
I had the knack for making things grow. I dabbled with orchids at our backyard garden. I raised a number of fruit trees and vines. I even had a couple of rabbits, some ducks and and big-ass chicken that scared of the neighborhood cats.
Yep. The god of science was smiling at me those years. Blessing me with gifts only I could use. Showing me a future full of inventions that would benefit all. If I only walked with him.
And then something happened. It was something called Adolescence.
Because it was during those malleable adolescent years, that they started airing replays of MacGyver.
(to be continued...)
Next on Soloflite's Merrily Looking Back...
Soloflite and friend try to replicate MacGyver's "swamp gas" episode... and miserably fail... Spreading instead enough ammonia in the Dorm Manager's office that made it unfit for human habitation for days...