When I was younger I always pictured what I’d be at 21. I wanted to be a Power Ranger and save people’s lives every day. But now I’m a bit more realistic. Don’t get me wrong, being a Power Ranger would be kickass, but it’s just not for me.
Now when I picture myself at 21, I see a building engulfed in flames with black smoke billowing out of that’s darker than darkness itself. I picture myself running in with an axe and an oxygen mask on over my gear.
What I want to do is save people; I want to be a firefighter. I want to know the feeling of running into a building on fire and feel the flames dance around my fire suit.
Everyone I know says I’m too smart for grunt work. But it’s not grunt work, it’s lifesaving. And it takes a lot of smarts to make snap decisions and make judgement calls.
When I’m 21 I hope to be living in Barrie, Ontario and working as a firefighter. I will also still be working with Camp Cairn in the summer.
My friends wonder why I would want to do that. Well, someone has to, right? And frankly the idea appeals to me.
Something I hope Future Me does is keep in touch with all his high-school friends, because it would sicken me if he didn’t.
My good friend Adam Brown was my boss at camp this summer. He told me about how his father was a fire chief. Going anywhere, their trucks were always polished, shoes shined, uniforms tidy. So Adam always had a code word on opening day: “Fire Truck.” It meant he wanted us to be more neat and tidy than the firemen and women.
This summer the Baysville firefighters came to camp to visit. Adam didn’t exaggerate at all. If anything, he was underselling them. Everything was sparkling. They were all neatly dressed, hair neatly trimmed.
When I saw that first fire truck roll down the hill into the parking lot, I was in awe. It was like the first time I heard the band Passion Pit. I was overjoyed and excited; I just had to get up and move. What my co-workers saw was a fire truck and a 300 – pound 16 – year – old jumping with joy.
I didn’t care because it was right then and there that I figured out I wanted to be a firefighter.
When I’m 21, I hope I still have my attitude. I’m excitable, energetic, and caring. It would kill me if I grew up to be someone else. Then when I’m 30, I’ll have some midlife crisis and buy a motorcycle.
When I’m 21, well, my mom phrased it best: “Mack, when you turn 21 I want you to be just like you are now except add five years to your age. You wouldn’t want to be in high school.” I was 16 by the way. She’s right, though. If my outlook on life changes even a bit, I will invent a time machine, go back in time and slap myself right now. Just to kee
