A child views life going forward. Adults have the pleasure of viewing life both forwards and backwards. Mostly backwards. The older we get, the more there is to view. Backwards. Forwards? Not so much.

Perhaps adults remember details of youth better than what they remember about yesterday because they’ve had decades to remember the details of youth, again and again, but only a single day to remember what happened yesterday.

Adulthood carries with it a certain inevitable end, a futility we all inherit, that sooner or later we’re gone. I’m not convinced that I understand the benefits of later versus sooner.

The futility of adulthood should be obvious to all. Adulthood ends, sometimes abruptly and seemingly all to soon, other times adulthood ends after lingering around for decades. But it always ends the same way. It simply ends.

For youth, even young adults, there’s always the excitement of what tomorrow promises. Adults view tomorrow tempered with a view of yesterday, and always with less excitement.

I read somewhere that Colonel Sanders went bankrupt a few times before his Kentucky Fried Chicken empire struck riches. I wonder if he ever thought about the health damage his food caused to hundreds of millions of people throughout the world.

Wendy’s Restaurant founder Dave Thomas died of heart disease, perhaps brought on by the heavy fat, high caloric content of the salt infested fast food he pushed to hundreds of millions of customers. Did Thomas or Colonel Sanders look forward, or backwards, or both? If both, how much?

After all, when they died, they had all the material needs a person would normally desire, but none of what they worked for added to the length of time assigned to their adult life.

Young people tend to look to the future with blind eyes, and poor hearing. They seldom remember what adults told them adulthood until it’s too late to do anything about it. Perhaps that’s a good thing, otherwise, people would retire much sooner in life. Adults not only have the pleasure of looking back on their lives, but the displeasure of looking back on what could have been but wasn’t.

The futility of adulthood cannot be denied.