It is currently 7:30 AM on Tuesday, August 31st, 2010. I am on vacation, and will be until next Thursday. Krystalle, Rafe and I will be leaving very early Thursday morning to drive to Atlanta for Dragon*Con, but for now I am simply taking some time off and generally trying to relax.
I am…restless.
Image by geishaboy500 via flickr
It’s a Saturday night, and I am in the process of firming up the fact that I am the best Dad ever.
You see, as opposed to sitting at home futzing around on my computer or even, perhaps, going out on the town I am sitting in the lounge of an indoor Parkour track that is located in Odessa, Florida. Have you not heard of Odessa, Florida? Yeah, neither have I, really. It’s pretty much in the middle of nowhere, about an hour from our house. There are no decent places to hang out anywhere near here, unless you consider McDonalds a “decent” place to hang out (and even that is about 10 minutes or so away). Why am I sitting in this lounge, you may ask? Because my son has recently been intensely interested in Parkour, and he really wanted to come up here and take the two hour class that they are offering.
So. Here I am.
On Thursday, May 21st, authorities in Baltimore arrested Jerri Althea Gray and took her son, Alexander Deundray Draper, into protective custody. A warrant was issued for Mrs. Grays arrest in South Carloina on Tuesday after she failed to appear at a court ordered hearing. During that hearing the judge ordered that the boy should be taken into state custody due to medical neglect.
It’s not often you’ll find me posting with complaints about being a Father. My son has been a blessing in almost every way imaginable, and I thank the universe every day that I get to spend with him. There are, however, a few things that occasionally infuriate me about being a parent. I’m gonna talk about one of those things now.
Growing up, one of my favorite series of books was the Choose Your Own Adventure series. I can’t remember how many of them I read, but I disctinctly recall several school book fairs when I walked away with a handfull of them. Well, Chooseco, the company who now owns the rights, is re-releasing the series (slightly modernized, but still the same stories). You can purchase the new line here!
It’s the day after Memorial Day. Two days after we were supposed to celebrate it, but a day after technically. The day after we are supposed to reflect on our Veterans, both living and dead, and consider the sacrifices that they made for our country. A sad time, really. A time to dwell on death and loss and sacrifice. A time to honor those who did what many of us today either could not, or would not, do.
That’s not what is on my mind today, though.
What’s on my mind is the fact that, in less than two weeks, I will be attending my ten year High School Reunion.
Ok, ok! So I’m shallow and self-centered, but it’s true. If I REALLY think about it, I can find the ability to honor and remember our vets. Hell, my Father served two tours in vietnam! I just can’t stop thinking about this damn reunion, though.
So, for all of you vets, I’m sorry. The rest of this essay has nothing to do with you.
I wonder if all my Gibbs High School class of 1990 class mates are feeling the same way that I am right now. This whole reunion thing, it almost feels like I’m going to be a member of a beauty pageant. Like I’m going to be rated on how successful I am, or how good I look, or if I achieved all of my “dreams” from High School. Well, I can tell you one thing, if that’s the case, the judges will conclude that :
But I know how to make a bulleted list…that’s one thing, I guess.
Just for the record, I have no bitterness whatsoever for my current status in life. My son means everything to me, and I would not trade him for the world. He has, at times, been the only thing that keeps me going, and as far as I’m concerned he is all the “success” I need in life.
I guess where all of this really comes from is that I’m starting to feel OLD. I realize that 27 going on 28 is not ancient by any means, but I’ve got a big factor counting against me that the normal 27 year old doesn’t have. I’m raising a 17 year old (No, I am not that much of a stud. She is my sister). It’s not that I don’t like her music (our tastes are pretty much the same in many ways), or her clothes (she dresses quite “normal”). It’s more my amazement at the lack of weight on her shoulders. We lost our Father last year. She also lost not one, but TWO friends soon afterwards. Three deaths, and it hasn’t even been a year yet since our Dad died. All of that, and she is still a generally happy kid. She still gets all stupid over her boyfriend and likes to hang out at the mall and “forget” to do her chores unless I remind her every weekend. Man, I envy that. I wish I could just accept life so readily. Just shrug it off and say “oh well, at least there is a new Jim Carrey movie coming out.” THAT’S what I see as being young, and let me tell ya, I certainly don’t feel young anymore.
So, the reunion. I’m going to see some people I haven’t seen in a LONG time. Some people I haven’t thought about in a long time. I’ve already seen a few names that brought back memories. Bill Stanley. Christime Lavendar. Dan Bruen. People I literally never saw again once the commencement ceremonies were over, but who were a part of my daily life for four years. Isn’t that amazing? God, I GREW UP with Bill Stanley. All the way from elementary school until graduation. I haven’t said the first word to him since we graduated, though, and to be honest I don’t know HOW I’m supposed to feel about that. Should I bemoaning my “lost youth” and making some sort of effort to reconnect with my past, or is it “just life” and something I should accept?
Ah well. It’s early yet, and I haven’t had my coffee. I AM looking forward to the reunion, and I hope that I get to see people like Bill Stanley. I hope he’s doing well, and even if he’s not I would never boast about my life or try to compare it to his. That’s not what I’m about, and I hope that’s not what the reunion is about. It’s about seeing some people who you miss, and maybe having an evening where you don’t have quite so much weight on your shoulders.
As long as everyone accepts that my kid is cooler than theirs, that is.