Rumspringe

The Amish have a good word--rumspringe--which cannot be literally translated.  It s the time of a young person's life, usually around 17 or 18, when the youngster is set loose into the world of the "English".  "English" is the term used by the Amish to include anyone not of their faith.  Why they pick on the English instead of Italians or Poles is anybody's guess.

Anyway, during  rumspringe a youth can take in the sights and sounds of the English world previously forbidden.  They can live in the city, wear modern clothes, listen to music, watch TV, drink and drive.  Some get into trouble because they can't handle the freedom.  Some never go home--if they choose the English world, they are "shunned" by their families. Some can't wait to return to the simpler way of life.

I'm a little old for rumspringe. Never in Amish history has a two-days-from-sixty woman been turned loose to experience rumspringe.  If she didn't get the world out of her system at 17, well, tough toodles.

And yet, that's how I feel.  The past months, culminating with my first ever time in Las Vegas, is my rumspringe.  Yes, I have a TV and radio; I drive and play CDs really loud to drown out my singing.  I wear clothes that suit my personality if not exactly Vogue.  I use a cell phone.  But never in my life have I been turned loose to experience the "English" world--until now.

My life has been a simple one.  We have the usual modern conveniences.  I get a new car every four or five years, not a buggy and Clydesdale.   I cut my hair, pluck my eyebrows, wear outrageous earrings and adorn my nails with glitz and glimmer. We are simple folk.  We like rides in the country, moonlit nights and a bonfire now and then.  We are not travelers.  So you can see why this trip to Las Vegas is my rumspringe.

I have every intention of having a good time as soon as the Dramamine wears off and my stomach settles to a dull ache.  I will  enjoy the "lights, camera, action!" of the famous Strip, the big show we will attend and the bing-bong of the casino.  The meetings are an afterthought; I have to go to them to be able to enjoy the rest.  Even they will be exciting, because I will be on the ground floor of a new team launch. 

The "English" world, much maligned by the Amish, is nonetheless useful to them.  It provides a place to shop for material goods, a place to work when farming doesn't pay enough, a place to sell their jam, meat and quilts.  It is the English who buy their furniture, taking great pride in saying their porch swing is "Amish crafted".

So it is with me.  I have no lust to live in Las Vegas, not even off the Strip in the regular sections of the city.  I do not pant for life of lights and noise.  One show with all its glamour will be probably enough for a lifetime.  Yet--here's the catch 22--I have to experience it before I can deny it. The English world isn't where my heart is, but is useful for a break from the monotony of real life.

There it is.  The Amish in their wisdom have seen the truth.  If one is denied (or ignores) the experiences set in front of her, how does she know what she loves?  Not just Las Vegas, but life  here in Erie, PA, too.  If I don't take in a play or ballet, see a rock concert or go dancing; if I don't sip apricot brandy or a mai tai on occasion instead of my usual G&T--how will I ever know?  If I don't sit on a bench at Rodderick overlooking the waters of Lake Erie, or take a kayak on a one-woman trip to the Lagoons, how will I know what I have missed?

Hubby and I have been together for forty-plus years.  Every day lately, it seems, we find out something new about each other.  We are starting to take time once again to experience simple pleasures.  It's time we explored the "English" world.

So my rumspringe begins.  Unlike the Amish kids, mine will only last a few days.  I won't find my heart in Las Vegas; my heart is in Erie, PA.  I won't find the love of my life there; he is in Erie, PA, too.  I won't sleep much, I won't have a shedding 100 pound dog at my feet.  Those, too, are in Erie.  I, too, would be shunned if I gave up my life here for the life of a casino groupie.

No worries, my friends.  When my rumspringe ends, I'm coming home.