Bus One Seven: Sowing the Seeds
Answering nature's call
by Roderick Armageddon
I have vivid memories of tripping through high school and college with the idea that I would probably some day simply end up with children. But really, when the heck would that actually happen? First, I couldn’t even get a date for the majority of the time I was in school and then when I did, there was no way in hell I was going to spread my seed across the open plains. Children were always such an annoyance to me and to be completely fair, I could barely manage myself. I sure as hell wasn’t about to embark on shaping the world view of someone else. Sure, I’d try to “re-educate” every bad driver out there by yelling at them as they swerved into my lane or ran a stop sign, but teach a child the difference between right and wrong? No thank you.
Alas, I finally found that special person who made my heart sing and my loins tingle and all of a sudden the idea of children seemed more real then it ever had before. But these new feelings simply filled me with a greater sense of fear. Now that I had a partner in crime (so to speak), the possibility that children would enter the picture became ever more real. Luckily, my partner was nearly as skeptical about the proposition of children as I was. However, at the age of 29, we both knew that our hesitation and procrastination would soon have to come to end, that is, if we wanted to avoid becoming one of those older parents that can’t really have as much physical fun with their kids. No one wants to throw out their hip during kite flying contest.
As the next year of our collective life unfolded, we made the decision to just let nature takes its course –that is, hope that it would take its course. True, no one is assured of Olympic fertility, though it’s hard to imagine that some people have a hard time conceiving, what with all the masses of children filling the sidewalks these days. But we kept faith in ourselves that all was functioning well in our boxers and ventured into the sometimes uncomfortable realm of production sex –that is, sex with a purpose other than personal, immediate physical satisfaction. During these less-than-ideal episodes of manual labor, one questions their sanity as well as whether they’re writing their own ticket to recreational sex extinction. Yet, you still manage to get through it, because, well, when it comes right down to it, sex is sex, regardless of the purpose. Sometimes it’s tragically funny how nature works.
Once the stick finally showed a beaming blue plus sign and the rabbit set sail on its final voyage, life as we knew it changed forever. The fear turned into action and the action turned into thoughts of a much higher purpose; a much less selfish purpose. It was like we found God in a urine sample. But this wasn’t God. This was something real—something we would soon touch and love and nurture. Hug a bible all you want, it will never bring you the same type of satisfaction that a child can. Conception 1; God 0. The bundle of joy that would soon greet us would take everything that we knew and understood and launch it into a higher state of understanding and meaning.
This is when nature’s call became ever clearer. We both turned our ear from the call for quite some time, hoping that we’d just know when the time was right, or if all went perfectly text book, would look at our debts and assets and realize we had entered the coveted green zone, thereby giving free license to procreate. We sought the safe zone for fear of the unknown, yet the call kept ringing in our ears. It’s hard to deny something that’s been a part of your mind for so long—even if most of that time was spent fearing it.
Once the bundle joined our world the call turned into a magical sound that now resonates boldly and clearly, and everything we denied for so long now makes perfect sense. If you have yet to sense the call, keep your ear to the rail and listen closely when it finally reaches your mind and your heart –which it will. Blink once, clap twice and remember that you only live once, so make sure that you experience all that you’re capable of. Anything less will leave you wanting for that subtle hum long after it has ceased vibrating in your soul.
Roderick Armageddon is best known for his work producing week-long films on the plight of southern Idaho field rats and the elusive Chippewa slag mouse. He can also be seen in the upcoming BBC documentary, Neutering my Spirituality: Ten Steps to Killing God. He currently writes from his perch atop a eucalyptus tree in San Francisco, California.