Mystery Revealed

OK, so that last post was a bit of a mistake. I was trying to test out a tool that we asked the engineers to build at work that would allow users to post songs (legally, mind you) onto their blogs, myspace pages, whatever... Unfortunately, after 5 weeks of coding and 2 weeks of testing and release, it turned out that it worked, but not if you posted it in a blog, myspace page or whatever. Go engineering. As fun as it would be to cultivate this deep sense of mystery further, there it is.

Not posting, perhaps, has also lent to a sense of mystery. Just what is David up to, I'm certain you are asking yourself at this very moment, and why hasn't be been posting? Well, I have my reasons why I've decided not to write and I'm not going to write them here because I'm trying to work them out on my own, and besides, they're my reasons and writing about them would rather defeat the point, right? Right? Not that they're very exciting anyway. Everyone gets into a funk every now and again, and I've been feeling a little ineffective about this whole life thing and my lack of meaningful participation in it lately, what with friends doing good and useful things, while I stay here in vactionland (and I am, at present, on vacation, mind you) and try to work off debt while wondering when it's going to be my turn. In the mean time, it has been a week of old acquaintances getting back in touch (no less than 3 people from high school, who I haven't heard from in at least a year, and in one case as many a 10). It's strange to see people moving on in life, making babies, expanding horizons and doing more good and useful things while I'm still muddling my way through the here and now.

My brother is in town, and Tuesday we celebrated his 17th birthday at Six Flags Magic Mountain. I won't go into too great detail on my dislike for places like this, but I'll leave you with this breakdown:

Driving time: 6 hours
Cost of 2 tickets: $83 (including $3 printing fee for the "privilege" of printing online purchased tickets out at home).
Cost of parking in their lot: $15 (Not optional, as they own all the land anywhere near the park
Temperature in Valencia, CA: 100 degrees F.
Average wait time per ride: 1 hour
Cost of 2 bottles of soda and a churro: $10
Cost of 2 bottles of water: $7
Average length of ride: 3 minutes
Cost of 2 sodas and 3 shitty chicken strips with a side of the nastiest mashed potatoes and gravy ever created and an all ice-burg lettuce salad: $16
Time spent in park: ~7.5 hours (7 rides)

He's lucky I like him so much, but am I going to be able to do this when I have kids? Being a good dad is going to be harder than I thought.

It was good to hang out with the brother, and to get a little quality time with him; not to say that, at 17, he's the greatest conversationalist in the world. It was hard not to bitch and moan the whole time, but I'm the adult here, and he's the kid, and I didn't want to ruin his birthday, so I think I managed to keep my trap shut and patiently wait to be hung upside-down and hurtled head first down a 200 foot cliff at 85 miles per hour. Good times were had by all.




I've been thinking a lot lately, what with the visit from the brother (and sister, who opted out of Six Flags, but will be kayaking with us today), and what with my generally grumpy state of self, about what kind of person I am, and was, and will be. Do I remember what it was like to be 17? I remember what I did, and who my friends were, but do I really remember what it felt like to still live in my parents home? Was I as naive and narrow minded (yes)? Did I say the same sort of stuff that came out sounding hopelessly ignorant, and often racist and homophobic (probably) because I'd never seen any life up close except for that of a privileged, white peer? Was I as uncommunicative and rude around adults (probably). Don't get me wrong here. I love my brother, and he's a really good kid. It's just that sometimes I feel like shaking him and opening his eyes up to the whole wide world out there. It's then I realize both that he has to find those things on his own, and that it would be enormously hypocritical of me who is, after all a product of the same expensively educated and privileged background, and who maybe sees a tiny fraction more of that big, wide world than he does.

At any rate, I'm not complaining. I'm going kayaking.