But, I, being a patient and reflective individual, took the question not with a grain, but with a full shaker of salt. It is a question that we all must answer in life, a question that begs a thoughtful and suitable response, especially when the richest part of your life is getting kids to laugh at your contorted face in a grocery store without “grown-ups” noticing you. Since I’ve had to answer that question pretty much every day since turning thirty, I’ll tell you what I tell my inquirers.

What do I want to be when I grow up? Alive.

It’s fairly straightforward I think. I look at it like this. If I meet that solitary goal, I am better off than four or five billion people before me. I have no great aspirations in life, no lofty or trembling ambitions (I haven’t the foggiest notion what a trembling ambition is but I’m certain I don’t want to catch that disease – it sounds horrible).

Sure, I want to be rich and famous and charming and caring and decent and thoughtful and considerate and athletic and photogenic and strange just like any other human being (okay, I’ll concede that not everyone wants to be athletic). Why should I be different? I’d love to have people think I’m the funniest thing since sliced bread or chopped liver or frozen milk or whatever is the funniest thing these days.

I’d want to climb Mt. Everest or explore the ocean depths looking for my lost pair of sandals or walk on the moon backwards. Who doesn’t? The world has so much to offer, but I wouldn’t be able to do any of it if I didn’t meet my primary goal: aliveness.

Everything else is secondary, don’t you think?