Back When My Life Was Easy

The other day my afternoon was spent walking down memory lane. I was rooting through my storage room looking for a couple of particular items when I decided I may as well do some spring cleaning. I spent the next several hours piling through every tote, cardboard box, and green army duffle; and rediscovering what my life consisted of circa 2001-2006.

The keepsakes were largely a collection of mementos from my Iraq deployment, Army uniforms, Ken Griffey Junior memorabilia, home videos that shall never be shown to anyone— ever, police memorabilia, Army surplus junk, old CDs, 1940s vintage items, and personal paperwork.

While I could tell a unique story for just about each item discovered in the treasure trove of junk, one piece stood out. It is a short story of its own and was written by my youngest sister during the years of her life when she marveled me. In fact, she saw me as a superhero, a humbling characterization since I was merely a superhuman. Unfortunately, now that she is grown, she Marvels at other so-called “superheroes”, and while I can no longer claim to be superhuman, I still achieve at times the status of “mostly human.”

I will leave you to decide, dear reader, whether or not the story is true. Regardless of truth, it does bring to life the reality and simplicity of my life as a young, single, white male adult. I am humbled by its accurate portrayal of my life and grateful for its rediscovery.

Without further ado, I give you the short story, “Steven and the Nasty Thifs”, by nine-year-old a much younger Cathy Mattson. Love you, sis. I edited the piece for readability.

Once upon a time there was a 23 year old boy named Steven. Steven was in the National Guard in Juneau, Alaska. He liked his job because he got to do drills, and go to different places. Steven lived in a cozy little apartment on Dawn Drive. Inside was a couch, arm chair, kitchen, and a small bedroom with a closet and dresser. Every day he drove his convertible Jeep to the National Guard armory and went inside to do drills and work in the office with the sergeants.

One day Steven got a new job at the police station in the middle of the town. He liked his job because he answered phone calls, and sometimes he got to ride in the police car with the chief.

Steven liked his new job and liked his old one, so he made a schedule and went to work at the police department and went to work at the National Guard armory. One day he would work at the armory and another day at the police station.

One day while answering phone calls the bell rang and Steven, just wanting one chance, ran out and jumped in the police car with the chief. They went to the house that was being robbed by nasty thieves. When they arrived, the thieves were just leaving. When they saw the police car, they sped off down the street. Steven and the police turned around and chased after the nasty thieves. The thieves drove so quickly that they lost the police and Steven.

Then the thieves stopped their car and ran into their old and musty shack. There they were splitting up their loot that they stole. When Steven and the police had surrounded the thieves shack, (they) yelled come out with your hands up and surrender, otherwise we will search your house.

So the nasty thieves came out and the police took the 8 thieves to jail. Then when the thieves were locked up and (the police) had everything sorted out, they had a big party in honor of Steven who saved the day and who caught the nasty thieves. The End.”

Yep, that pretty much sums of an average day for me back when I was a young, single, white male adult and my life was easy.