The Slutsky Equation

I was running around East last week and I saw a woman fall flat on her face. Her glasses went flying and she skidded a good five feet across the pavement. I was unable to control myself and I burst out laughing. She stood up, looked around, dusted herself off and continued on her way. I don't think she even knew I saw her.

I spent the rest of the run thinking about why I had laughed at this poor woman. It had nothing to do with cruelty, because I felt terrible for her and was relieved when I saw that she was uninjured. The issue here was not a lack of sympathy, but a lack of maturity.

There are two sayings that I always hear about college, and they are completely at odds with each other. The first goes, "College is the time in your life when you're going to make the transition from adolescence to adulthood." The second goes, "College is your last opportunity to go crazy and have fun." I don't know whether to grow up or throw up. The only relationship I can see between the two is that you should have so much fun in college that it sucks all of the immaturity, energy and lawlessness out of you. In other words, the best way to find maturity is to have four years of complete resistance to it.

When I made it back to my apartment 30 minutes later, I had come to the realization that the window of opportunity to laugh at people when they fall down is growing smaller by the day. I thought back to when I was a kid and basically lived in a consequence-free environment. It didn't matter if I pointed in shock at someone's fake eye or knocked over a collection of mannequins in a department store. I was young and immature, and everyone accepted it. It was like carrying around a get-out-of-jail-free card, which became literal if I was caught stealing candy or action figures.

Nowadays, all I ever hear is how the future is coming and I need to get ready for the real world. Ever since I've been at Duke, it's been a fight to stay in the past. Unfortunately, it's a battle that's impossible to win. There's going to be a day, and it's going to be soon, when I'm walking down the street with my briefcase and overcoat and some woman's going to trip and fall down in front of me. I'll want to laugh, but some voice in my head that doesn't even sound like me will say, "Are you serious? You're 40 years old. Grow up." My laughter will die before it can even make it out of my mouth, and then I'll go off and trade stocks or fire someone or something.

I used to think that as people got older, they just stopped thinking certain things were funny. I realize now that we never really change our sense of humor, we just do a much better job at hiding it. I know that in the heart of every tired, middle-aged parent, there lies the secret desire to launch fireworks into the middle of a crowded intersection or to pour hot sauce on someone's lips while he sleeps. This is the kind of humor I grew up on, and it's finally coming to an end.

Back at my apartment, I told myself that this was the day I was finally going to become a man. It was time to say goodbye to the "Are You Afraid of the Dark?" reruns and drawing penises on my friends' faces when they passed out from drinking. I started making a list in my head of adult things I needed to learn how to do. My visions of tax returns, changing tires and doing my own laundry were interrupted by my roommate's return from econ discussion. He told me that his professor had spent the duration of class explaining a term known as "The Slutsky Equation." We roared with laughter and decided that Slutsky must have been absolutely miserable in high school. Later, I recounted the story of the falling woman, and it sounded even funnier the second time.

I am deeply indebted to Slutsky, because he taught me that, while adulthood is looming in the days ahead, it hasn't gotten me down yet. Instead of fearing the days when I can't ridicule someone for his misfortunes, I should be embracing them while I still have a chance. So, be careful the next time you're walking, because if you trip and fall, I'm going to be the obnoxious guy laughing at you. Don't worry, it's not because I don't like you. I'm just a kid. I can't help it.