march 31, 2009
this morning i was flipping through a newsweek that arrived in my mailbox by mistake and read a short article about the columbine high school shooting, now nearly 10 years ago. what caught my attention was that the author of the article, ramin setoodeh, was 16 years old in april of 1999. i was almost 18. what i kept thinking was, "damnit, this guy's 26 and writing for newsweek. i'm nearly 28 and am not." i am immediately and absolutely jealous of anyone younger than me that appears to have a cooler and/or more successful life than my own. trite in the face of this tragedy's anniversary, but i understand myself to be a shallow person sometimes.
this reminded me of a recent conversation i had with my grandfather. most of his sentences aimed at me are meant to impart some wisdom and life lessons. he said to me, and i'm paraphrasing, how easy my life is compared to my great-grandfather (his father) who arrived in america with less than $20 in his pocket. this kind of statement is nothing new, either from my specific grandfather or from grandparents in general. what struck me, however, was how angry he seemed at me for having it "easy." i did not say, but wanted to: wasn't that the plan? wasn't that the ultimate goal? your father carved out a life so that you could have it easier, and you did the same for mine, and mine has for me. doesn't every generation of parents want their kids to have it "easier" so why so seemingly bitter about it?
but in the weeks since seeing my grandfather, i think i'm better understanding the emotion behind his words. my most recent rise of self-satisfaction has been in beating the NES puzzle games "the adventures of lolo" parts I and II in two days each, but which has dwindled in level 16 of part III as i cannot for the life of me figure it out. how would my great-grandfather feel about this if he knew this is what is currently occupying me?
to be fair, and in my own defense, i work and make a living doing contract web development - and so can set my own hours and make up the time i spend playing "lolo." in fact, i've recently thought of myself as the owner of my own web development company - though, while perhaps technically true, seems like self-aggrandizement to me. i'm not renting office space; i'm not managing employees; i'm not wooing potential clients over lunch. that sounds like owning a company, but the more i say it to myself, the more i feel comfortable thinking of myself as such.
okay, so i may not write for newsweek, but does ramin own his own goddamn business? and can he do that while simultaneously beating "lolo" part I in two days? taken in this light, my life does not seem so unsuccessful in comparsion. nor does it seem so "easy," papa.
yet, the rationalizations required for this perspective seem shaky to me, like i could cut myself shaving one day and in that cliched moment of seeing the drop of blood, my face in the mirror's reflection, the sudden frozen look in my eyes while i register what just happened, my life would rush at me with suddent clarity and the whole house of cards would swiftly fall. (this does not need to happen because, obviously, i'm already deconstructing everything now).
i'm curious where the need for these rationalizations comes from. i have the same general thought that i did when i was 21: i don't want to wake up and be 50 years old and find myself in a place i can't recall how i arrived at. but now it's 6 years later and in all honesty 6 years closer to this self-defined nightmare. i have conversations on a somewhat regular basis with a good friend of mine where we both excite each other with the "cold hard fact" that there is something* big inside of us that is bursting at the seams to get out.
[* = some kind of to-be-determined, massive creative output that will bring any/all of the following: critical accolades, commercial success, adoration of millions, personal contentment]
for my friend, i have no doubt that that "something" is coming from him. dude's a genius after all. but for me, will my biggest achievement be "owning my own company?" is my shaving-epiphany happening now or in the moment just after i bitterly explain to my grandchildren (assuming i have any) how "not easy" it was to do this? christ, i hope not.
please, please, please: something don't give up on me.
this reminded me of a recent conversation i had with my grandfather. most of his sentences aimed at me are meant to impart some wisdom and life lessons. he said to me, and i'm paraphrasing, how easy my life is compared to my great-grandfather (his father) who arrived in america with less than $20 in his pocket. this kind of statement is nothing new, either from my specific grandfather or from grandparents in general. what struck me, however, was how angry he seemed at me for having it "easy." i did not say, but wanted to: wasn't that the plan? wasn't that the ultimate goal? your father carved out a life so that you could have it easier, and you did the same for mine, and mine has for me. doesn't every generation of parents want their kids to have it "easier" so why so seemingly bitter about it?
but in the weeks since seeing my grandfather, i think i'm better understanding the emotion behind his words. my most recent rise of self-satisfaction has been in beating the NES puzzle games "the adventures of lolo" parts I and II in two days each, but which has dwindled in level 16 of part III as i cannot for the life of me figure it out. how would my great-grandfather feel about this if he knew this is what is currently occupying me?
to be fair, and in my own defense, i work and make a living doing contract web development - and so can set my own hours and make up the time i spend playing "lolo." in fact, i've recently thought of myself as the owner of my own web development company - though, while perhaps technically true, seems like self-aggrandizement to me. i'm not renting office space; i'm not managing employees; i'm not wooing potential clients over lunch. that sounds like owning a company, but the more i say it to myself, the more i feel comfortable thinking of myself as such.
okay, so i may not write for newsweek, but does ramin own his own goddamn business? and can he do that while simultaneously beating "lolo" part I in two days? taken in this light, my life does not seem so unsuccessful in comparsion. nor does it seem so "easy," papa.
yet, the rationalizations required for this perspective seem shaky to me, like i could cut myself shaving one day and in that cliched moment of seeing the drop of blood, my face in the mirror's reflection, the sudden frozen look in my eyes while i register what just happened, my life would rush at me with suddent clarity and the whole house of cards would swiftly fall. (this does not need to happen because, obviously, i'm already deconstructing everything now).
i'm curious where the need for these rationalizations comes from. i have the same general thought that i did when i was 21: i don't want to wake up and be 50 years old and find myself in a place i can't recall how i arrived at. but now it's 6 years later and in all honesty 6 years closer to this self-defined nightmare. i have conversations on a somewhat regular basis with a good friend of mine where we both excite each other with the "cold hard fact" that there is something* big inside of us that is bursting at the seams to get out.
[* = some kind of to-be-determined, massive creative output that will bring any/all of the following: critical accolades, commercial success, adoration of millions, personal contentment]
for my friend, i have no doubt that that "something" is coming from him. dude's a genius after all. but for me, will my biggest achievement be "owning my own company?" is my shaving-epiphany happening now or in the moment just after i bitterly explain to my grandchildren (assuming i have any) how "not easy" it was to do this? christ, i hope not.
please, please, please: something don't give up on me.