Eventually I’ll start coming up with creative names for these things. It used to be, on a previous blog, that I’d come up with this fascinating title for a post and then spend most of my time looking for the perfect picture to express that title. I’m not doing that right now. Focusing more on content? But, even then, not really. Just typing, typing, typing away.
This is kind of an anonymous blog. I setup a separate email for writing which is kind of cathartic because it’s so clean. I checked it yesterday and realized that since I’m posting publicly here people can see my blog. And people are reading it.
So … hi?
I feel like this weird in-betweener as far as my generation goes. I grew up pre-internet. I went out to play, was called in for dinner, had adventures. I sat in the garage with the long phone cord to talk to a girl. When I was in high school the kids with more money had pagers, not cell phones. I had a flip phone in college and didn’t get my first smartphone until I was about 30.
I don’t understand televisions anymore. When I was in my mid-twenties my family and I went in together on a gift for my dad, a nice flat screen television. It’s been about 10 years now, but that’s still a nice television. And I can barely work it. He’s got 3 remotes for it and if you want to watch something on Netflix you have to use each one of them.
I’m also lost in video games. I’m a classic Nintendo guy because Mario I can understand. I played Final Fantasy III on the Super Nintendo as a kid and loved it. I got that game and sat down to play it and 6 hours went by in a snap. I watched a friend play Final Fantasy 27 in college and there was so much … Dials and paths and 16 buttons on the controller and what the hell. I’m a button-masher, that’s my thing. If I can’t remember to take my pills every morning, don’t expect me to remember how to throw a thunder upper cut with a Swahili twist.
The only other thing I get in my writing email is Redbox offers. I’m actually signed up with three different email addresses so when the deals roll around, I can get three movies for one night for about $.50 each rather than just one. That’s the smarts.
My grandma grew up during the depression. I guess my other grandparents did, too, but she’s the only one that’s been specifically pointed out to me as thrifty because of it. When Toys R Us announced they were closing and my local store started marking things down, the one thing I was supremely interested in was the Legos. But they weren’t dropping quickly enough for me and my meager earnings, so I grabbed about 6 things and hid them under one of the fixtures. I was hesitant to tell anyone I did this, but I admitted it to my mother and she said my grandmother would be proud of me for it. And that made me feel better about it.
I was fine with doing it, I just felt like it wasn’t fair. But it wasn’t for me, it was for my son and it was worth it. That’s one nice thing about having a kid. (There’s millions of nice things about having a kid; I love my son.) It’s a license to break rules that you wouldn’t normally because: him. I killed a spider the other day because that’s one less venomous creature that could bite him and make him sick. I’ll cut in line, cheat in a contest, murder a hobo. Whatever it takes.
On the flip side of this, I have to do things outside of my comfort zone, too. Recently my son was in t-ball and I’m not a sports guy, but I signed up to be a team parent and kind of became an assistant coach. I knew all the kids names, I was clapping and encouraging and high-fiving. Yet, still, when the ball would come near me I instinctively flinched because when I went through baseball as a kid I was scared of the ball. I sweated buckets, got tired and worn out and dirt on my feet through my shoes and socks, but I did it, for him. And enjoyed it, don’t get me wrong. But I wouldn’t have done that without him.
Everything’s easier when it’s for someone else. It’s not easier, no – that’s wrong. It’s easier to commit to things you wouldn’t normally commit to when it’s for someone else. But not everything, because life’s not that simple.