once upon a time, as incredible as it is to start a story that way in the year 2006, a boy was born (in 1983) and cursed with the inability to commit; given a long history of great half-hearted attempts, a few great fallings-upon-big-lucky-things, and being generally well rounded--he still managed to never really commit to anything. besides, perhaps, his eternal commitment to...being noncommital.
as a babe, even in his mother's arms, he was unable to stay with just one person; this made him both loveable and hateable--his ability to be happy everywhere and with almost anyone was often one of the reasons cited for his "perfect child" status. he would run from one smiling face to another, a baby flower to the glowing big people orbs floating around him, and his dimples were always "cute," but he once ran past his father and hugged another man crying "daaaaddy" the whole time!
as a teenager he was torn between genres and unable to settle for a single clear THING, as he had learned he must (the few afterschool specials had succeeded in teaching him that much). his teenage angst was never exactly what was modeled for him by his neighbors, nor was his grunge anyone else's...instead, as he fumbled, he created his own strange and awkward version of what he thought he should be; for "grunge" he was without the clear examples of kurt cobain and had to depend on whatever he could fish from those around him through observation and easedropping. thus his grunge was: bowlcut shaggy blonde hair, jincos, and oversized nike t-shirts.
as a college student he finally started to deal with at least part of the issue, his fear of reprisal--his fear of inferior tastes and from said tastes--opinions... from an eternity of "kind of," "sort of," and generally half-assed weak kneed opinions...suddenly he felt he had the right to an actual statement. wings sprouted where only zits had been before.
he was still cursed by his inability to chose an answer and stick to it, in relationships and career and other such trivial things...but he was/is doing better. a work in progress, to speak, is this story and this boy.
as a babe, even in his mother's arms, he was unable to stay with just one person; this made him both loveable and hateable--his ability to be happy everywhere and with almost anyone was often one of the reasons cited for his "perfect child" status. he would run from one smiling face to another, a baby flower to the glowing big people orbs floating around him, and his dimples were always "cute," but he once ran past his father and hugged another man crying "daaaaddy" the whole time!
as a teenager he was torn between genres and unable to settle for a single clear THING, as he had learned he must (the few afterschool specials had succeeded in teaching him that much). his teenage angst was never exactly what was modeled for him by his neighbors, nor was his grunge anyone else's...instead, as he fumbled, he created his own strange and awkward version of what he thought he should be; for "grunge" he was without the clear examples of kurt cobain and had to depend on whatever he could fish from those around him through observation and easedropping. thus his grunge was: bowlcut shaggy blonde hair, jincos, and oversized nike t-shirts.
as a college student he finally started to deal with at least part of the issue, his fear of reprisal--his fear of inferior tastes and from said tastes--opinions... from an eternity of "kind of," "sort of," and generally half-assed weak kneed opinions...suddenly he felt he had the right to an actual statement. wings sprouted where only zits had been before.
he was still cursed by his inability to chose an answer and stick to it, in relationships and career and other such trivial things...but he was/is doing better. a work in progress, to speak, is this story and this boy.
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