For a while now I’ve been considering having another mid-life crisis. Just jump in my van, The Phantom Rambler, leave the world behind and go see America!

This’ll be my fifth breakdown, I think.  My very first happened while I was still in kindergarten  when I felt the walls of the classroom closing in on me and that my teacher, Mrs. Johnson, was my oppressor.

For those who don’t know, a mid-life crisis is like a sustained panic attack.  You get the feeling that there is something more going on somewhere else and you are missing out on it because your duties and responsibilities (and let’s not forget rules.  My golly there are so many RULES that…) are preventing you from ambling about and seeing what is where and that before you know it you will no longer be in your prime.  So, you start doing a lot of second-guessing about spending the bulk of your life either at work, commuting to work or going to bed early because you have to get up for…work.

Then you start freaking out because you are doing all this work and still you are mortgaged to the eyeballs.  So you take a step back and assess your life.  That is when depression kicks in because you realize that the purpose of your life is to show up for work, yet it wouldn’t make an ounce of difference if no one did your job.  And your ultimate goal is “to make it through”.  If you are really lucky you will be allowed to retire at least 18 months before you collapse –your dreams, still a long way from achieving memories.  Of course, by then you won’t be able to hear so well and you will have to go to the bathroom at every moment of every day except when you are actually trying to go to the bathroom.  This is when the crisis kicks in.

Volumes upon volumes have been written about how to cope with these feelings and, when that doesn’t work (because it never does), prescription upon prescription has been written to do the work for us, but next to nothing has been written on how to actually have a mid-life crisis.  What exactly does one do?  Where does one even begin? What you desperately need is a step-by-step guide for the proper execution and maintenance of the mid-life crisis.  And, who better to write it than yours truly?

Step 1

Displaying the appropriate pageantry for the ceremony, begin by uttering the solemn  incantation, “Fuck it.”

These words have power and mark the official starting point of chucking everything you have spent your life building. These words are a public declaration of oath breaking and absolve you of further responsibility to any and all matters.  It even flouts the rules of polite society. Never embark on a life changing mistake without first saying, “Fuck it”

Step 2

Burn bridges.

This step is crucial.  You can’t go halfway.  You will get nowhere with a safety net.  You can’t have an easy out when you are gripped by terror and regret. And, don’t be fooled — you will experience terror and regret.   Almost right away, in fact.  Desperation is your salvation.

For most people this is a once in a lifetime chance to do all the shit you have daydreamed about.  You won’t.  But this IS your chance.

Tell your boss to kiss your ass as you march out in epic fashion flipping the no-look double bird to your co-workers.

Withdraw the funds in your 401k.  Don’t worry about the tax penalty, you will have long-since been a free man by the time April 15th rolls around.

Tell your family what a flock of albatrosses around your neck they are.

Tell your neighbor that his honor roll-student children are morons and that his lawn isn’t all that green.  Whatever it takes to make sure you can never go back.

They say you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.  So, chuck it all.  It is the only way to appreciate how good you had it.

Burn those bridges!

Step 3

Sneer.

Attitude matters.  Sneer with haughty derision at the sheeple (yes, sheeple) for not having the same epiphany that you are currently suffering through.  Mock them for being slaves to the machine.

Step 4

Take a moment to bask in the abject freedom.

It is scary, I know.  But don’t worry — soon you will be too bored to be scared.

Because now you are going to realize that you are so conditioned to being a small cog in the machine, dutifully performing your mindless tasks and obsessing over never having enough time to do the things that you’ve always wanted to do, that it never occurred to you that you don’t really have all that much stuff that you actually want to do.  Besides, everybody else is at work and still pissed at you, so there is no one to do anything with.  And, everything costs money and things are a little tight right now because you quit your job in epic fashion.  You just caught yourself physically wincing as you recalled the memory of it.  Power through. It’ll pass.  Dignity is for chumps.  This is why we burned those bridges.  If we hadn’t we would run crawling (yeah, that is a thing) back and beg forgiveness and promise to be good.  But, trust me, things would be worse.

Step 5

Figure out what you WANT to do.

If we made this step 1, you would never have gotten to step 2.  Hell, you have been on this step your whole life now but always table it when responsibility rears its ugly head.  Your wants have become fantasy.  That is a shame.  Now, you don’t really have a choice.  So, do it.

Don’t confuse this with what you love doing because then you are guilted into saying that which is expected of you.  It’s like when someone asks you what your best day was.  Sure, you’d like to say that time you worked up the nerve to hit on that one hot chick at the bar and when she shot you down, she kind of smiled at you instead of squirting pepper spray in your face.  You felt like Elvis Casanova.  But, instead you have to say, “My wedding day” or, “the birth of my children.”  To say anything else makes you a monster.

They say the secret to happiness is doing something you love.  But, anyone who loves anything that they HAVE to do is fooling themselves.  The secret is doing what you WANT to do.  And, no one wants to do the same thing 8 hours a day, 5 days a week for 50 years.  Hell, I’ll bet Ron Jeremy hates his job sometimes.  (Quick reminder for those of you who have heard the story:  My wife, Trixie, appeared in a movie with him when she was 18.  It was titled, “Springbreak USA”).

So, now that you have the time, try everything at least once, but not so often it becomes tedious.

Henry David Thoreau said, “Simplify simplify.”  I always felt that if he really meant it he would have only said the word one time.  So, as I embark on my life of minimalization, my first step was to properly outfit my rig with all of the creature comforts it could hold.  A couch, fridge, microwave oven, solar panel, satellite TV, internet hotspot, George Foreman Grill, my comic books, a large Hollywood-wind-machine style fan, propane heater, junk food…stuff like that.

Remember, this isn’t my first time.