PAST ENVISIONINGS OF FUTURE THINGS

I may not have told you this yet, but when I was little I wanted to grow up to be a fire truck. Not a fire man, or a fire truck driver, heck, not even a Dalmatian that might ride on a fire truck, I wanted to be a fire truck, the thing itself, brass fixtures, shiny dials and nozzles, bright red paint job and all. I cannot quite be sure why I wanted to be a fire truck, but I did. At that point the problematics of biology seemed a trifling matter. Perhaps it was because they seemed such useful things – fire trucks that is – or perhaps, as a child, they were rare and exotic sights in the wide world into which I was just beginning to adventure, though they were commonly seen in the hard-paged books I was just beginning to read.

I am not sure exactly when I gave up this desire to be a fire truck, but I still thrill every time I encounter one; I have even been known to skip about and clap when one drives by. Thus, yesterday, I ran across two men flushing out the fire hydrant down the street, my familiar joy sprung to the surface. I realize there was no fire truck present, but the force of my associations is such that all fire truck related accoutrement produce a palpable wave of excitement.

The only other thing I remember wanting to be as a child is a student. Seriously. I used to fantasize about studying mathematics at Princeton – you see I participated in the state math competition at Princeton as a child, which surely produced an idealized site for my preadolescent aspirations. [In fact, I shall be recovering my trophies from my parents this summer.] This fantasy never really when past the college stage; it wasn’t about doing anything in particular with math, having a job, or discovering anything new; I wasn’t interested in anything as base or callow as that. I simply dreamed about playing with numbers somewhere where the other people around me would understand that impulse.

I never did go to Princeton, nor, obviously, have I found a way to transform myself into a fire truck. I don’t particularly regret that I no longer expect to literally fulfill either of these fantasies; what I do miss, though, is the ease of faith I was able to muster as a child, that remarkable capacity for projecting myself into the most far-fetched possibilities without a moment’s concern for logistical difficulties. Along with forgetting how to draw – a practice I developed a phobia for at a surprisingly early age – I miss this ability to project into possible futures the most. When I think about it, it doesn’t seem such a difficult thing to master, but then it always proves to be a far more elusive skill than one would expect, what with the burdens of logic, doubt, and experience.

At the same time, though, across all of the years I have never really replaced these two childhood dreams – even if I no longer have simple faith in them. Those initial fantasies of a life of books and scribbled notes and frantic explorations has propelled my nearly every move for over two decades, and while I no longer expect to become a fire truck, I must admit I have never quite put that wish aside. No matter how strongly my rational thoughts compel me to limit myself to the physical possibilities of my flesh and blood existence, I still find myself running in childish glee at the simple sight of a fire hydrant releasing its reservoir of water, drawn back to whatever it was in those early years that brought me to forgo concerns of the human/machine boundary. In the end, I must admit some part of me still wants to be a fire truck.

Thus, I still sometimes wonder why I fixed upon fire trucks. Perhaps even as a toddler there were already subtle concerns over power and authority embedded within my psyche. Perhaps such unconscious machinations continue to drive this fascination. On the other hand, it may simply be that fire trucks are really, really cool, and I, unlike the rest of the world, have had the wisdom and insight to aspire to be so grand. And seeing that I have yet to find a properly compelling counter-argument to this explanation, that is my story, and I am sticking to it.