Once a grub listened to its inner child. That might seem unnecessary for a grub, redundant even, but this one insisted otherwise. Contrary to common belief, it maintained, there wasn’t enough childlike conduct and thinking to be seen in those days. And what examples of childlike conduct and thinking there were made the grub wince with embarrassment. From government to commerce to leisure pursuits to personal relationships, fumbling attempts to get back to the youthful innocence that seemed to vanish with puberty were too much the rule rather than the exception. It was truly disheartening, the grub asserted, to see grown men and women struggle so to add two and two together in their attempts to find solutions to complex problems of statecraft and diplomacy. And what of CEOs who longed to turn multinational conglomerates into private piggy banks; weren’t they sending out an unconscious cry for help? Wasn’t it the same for those elsewhere among the power elites who couldn’t bring themselves to admit a single mistake for fear of looking like a sissy? Not to mention every men’s-show message that one shouldn’t let go too soon of those memories about how good it felt to nestle against really big breasts. The need for sensitivity in these cases was obvious to the grub, as was the need for comprehensive, caring responses. The most promising start, in its own mind, would be a coordinated dedication to “Larval Living,” as the movement now gaining widespread popularity was known. The grub was influenced in this belief by the teachings of TV’s pop shamans, one of whom was the author of Think Larval: Reclaiming Your Primal Curl (now in its 410th edition) and the inspiration for the first Curl Therapy Spa franchises in Boulder and Santa Fe. “Why grow up when it’s obvious you don’t have to?” was the book’s standard line of advice to the troubled and confused, typically followed by “Your heart really is warm and fuzzy inside, so go ahead and curl up tight.” “If everybody just followed the book’s lead,” the grub cheerily thought, “what a wonderful world it would be!” All those who’d learned to listen to their inner child (their “pupa power,” in the author’s catchy words) only needed to bring their minds together and wish hard and then all the bad stuff would go away. That old saying about all you ever really needed to know you learned in kindergarten was so true. Whoever came up with that idea was a genius who obviously knew a thing or two. Repeating to itself simple mottos like these had brought the grub great peace of mind and, it hadn’t the least doubt, could do the same for others. Just think what could happen if grubs everywhere combined their efforts in one huge “Pupafest”! All they had to do was curl in upon themselves, millions upon millions of them, all listening expectantly for their inner child to tell them exactly what to think or say or do next. “Larval Living” in action, as far as the eye could see.
Copyright © 2020 by Geoffrey Grosshans