I'm coming gradually to think, or to feel, that children
are basically it.
That the important part of what humanity does is what it
does, what it is, when it is children.
That once you're, say, 16 or 18 years old, you're done
with the important part, and now you're just part of
doing law enforcement and writing and technology and
health-care and bricklaying and procreation so that
the next generation of the important people, the
children, will have a good time.
This means that teachers, for instance, are both
sort of holy and sort of amazingly lucky.
They're up there on the front line, working with the
people who matter, and having a good deal to do with
shaping the experiences that matter.
This means that I, sitting here working on Perl scripts
and doing computer security stuff, am pretty far from where
the main action is.
But so are most people.
The guys who took care of the horses that were used to pull
the wagons that were used in maintaining the roads that led
from the quarries to the construction site where they were
building the Tower of Babel probably didn't spend too much
time thinking about how far removed their work was from
the building of the Tower.
They just got up in the morning, had pizza, and got out the
mucking tools and the currycombs.
But still the Tower was there down the road, climbing slowly
up, and without it all the currying and shoeing would have
been without an ultimate point.
I'm not sure what it would mean for this feeling to be true.
And it may just be that I have children myself, and they
amaze and bewilder and impress me.
And that I remember being a child myself, and what a fine
high bright time it was.