The Ways We Wonder - Part 2

Martin Amis, a mildly alcoholic yet literally privileged European novelist once said, "Lately I am having trouble remembering a lot of my actions and events of my life, or perhaps its that my life has just become less memorable." I sit staring out the window watching the heavy rain fall from the sky, feeling heavy myself because I just cannot figure our where it is exactly coming from. I think about this Amis quote. The comment, rooted in worry. A man, afraid that his best days are behind him, only at the age of 37. Will I be that man? Was my sexual peak at 18 years of age, and from now on I will under-perform and sleep with less adequate women, or turn to men? Have I experienced greatness and failure, two necessary feeling to be alive? Is what awaits me simply checkerboards and discounted carnival rides?

I like to believe not. I try to not let the tougher things in life get me wondering too much. Such as finding out where exactly the rain comes from, or why some blades of grass grow longer than the others standing upright next to them. I try not to think about why a human heart physically hurts when someone "breaks it," when the only mechanism truly effected is the brain. I suppose oxygen flows through both during each breath, so as we breath sorrow, hatred, bliss, or fear, they extend both to the brain and heart, an inevitably causes a shutter of pain. The heart doesn't truly break, but that sharp pain inhibits its core. You are left wondering why you couldn't just settle for being a pretentious, nacissistic, douchebag with a superiority complex, thus making you incapable of pain done by another human being. After all, man does historically have the tragic propensity to hurt the ones and things he love.

Amis sits there nervously trembling and forcing drink to interact with his stomach acid giving him immediate relief from the dark contemplation of an ominously dull future. I on the contrary revel in the thought that the best days could be behind me, that my days are numbered, and that life as a whole is over. I take this thought as a challenge. To transgress the boundaries of limitation, and to uphold the only true agreement we have....to live. To live fully, mostly happy, and with causing as little pain to other as possible. I have realized that my actions to live, and to enjoy, do not always positively effect others, and at times they press hard on the fringe of cruelty. However, I know I will get mine, as long as someone else is living like I.

I am not too naive to realize that some people are dealt a bad hand, others have crippling disabilities, and accidental set backs. I do however believe that for the most part, the people who are unhappy fail to wonder correctly. They wonder about what is to come in a negative fashion, and are unable to embrace challenges and turn them into successes. Those who are happy, wonder well. They wonder how they can make a change, they wonder what they can do to make things better, or their lives more well-rounded. Those who wonder well, do not wonder too long. It is when time is too often spent within ones own head, that it goes erratic, maniacal, and hopeless, searching for answers in a place where the answers never rested. They are out there, not stuck within. 

To sum it up moderately bland, make life memorable and stop worrying like Amis. Stop fearing that you may have made all the "memories" that you will make in your life. The life of one is still constrained by the powers that be, and is mind-blowingly and comparatively short to mans existence on this planet. Perhaps Amis just drank too much and is mind was clogged by potato vodka, and cheap Manhattan whiskey. Alas the acerbating tinnitus that plagued him daily obscured any possibility of looking on the bright side. So I will take away what I can; drink often, but not superfluously, and wonder about the good days to come.

Happy Mothers Day - May 13. 2012

July 10th, 2005 (3:32am PST) - "Mom, I know its late..really late there, because it is late here. You know how you gave me your credit card in case of emergencies? Well, Chris, Mike, and I are stuck in Tijuana, Mexico and we spend all of our money to get home. How do I get cash back from your credit card?"

Response: "Ryan, you have to be kidding me."

October 30th, 2008 (10:32pm EST) - "Hey mom, I fucked up. My Audi is up against a Bank of America ATM machine wall, and I do not know what to do."


Response: "Call you father" followed by an ominous click

Two very valid responses for two calls that a mother should never have to receive from her son. Oh, the joys of parenting with regards to slow growth through elongated adolescence. Through thick and thin, I know my mother is proud of me, regardless of my many shortcomings. This however is not a day about me, and my moronic approaches to socialization across the US. No, this is a day to celebrate our mothers. The mothers who take these four am collect calls, who drove us to school, who packed out lunches, taught us to cook, iron, read, and to love.

Truthfully without my mother: I would see my life going something like this... 5 year graduate with a degree in plant science from Northwest Connecticut Community College. Driving around in a 1990 Ford Taurus listening to Hatebreed. Getting ready for their fantastic comeback tour, while sipping monster energy drink simultaneously smoking a menthol pall mall and blowing the smoke out of my roll down windows in Route 8. No girlfriend, no real friends, except a pet rabbit who's only contribution to the world is an unfathomable amount of bullet shits left on the basin of a "should be quarantined" kennel. Waiting for something to show up and happen, not fighting for my dreams, and never really creating them.

Mom - You have helped me grow into the man I am today. I am successful, I try to be as honest as I can most of the time. I love people, they love me. I sing, I write, I dance, I play...I cry. I love my sister and I would do anything possible for my family. I earn a good living, but always want more - never settle for just "okay." I have dreams, I have hopes, and in these dreams you are there for many many years. I make mistakes, and I learn from them, for the most part. I am a son.

I hope that you take some time today to put down that lousy 50 Shades of Grey book, if you finally decided to purchase it and just think. Think about all the amazing things you have done. It wont take long. Look at your two children who are now living together in Boston, successfully. Without you, they would not be where they are, they simply would not have made it this far. And, as you sit back with this pleasant thought in mind, remember all the good times we shared together, when we cannot be with one another, these beautiful memories will help us get through until the next time.

I love you.

Ryan

The Accomplishments Of Others

Sometimes I have found in life that it is the sheer happiness or accomplishments of others that truly bring light to your day. Sure, I am brought joy by reaching a new advertising revenue mark within my job, or when I receive a new watch worth more than the average American makes in one full calendar year, but I am not overjoyed.

Today, one of my closest and dearest friends Nico, graduated law school. He is the fun loving fuck to the left in the above photo.  I will not mention his last name for the chance that this post diminishes his chances of receiving any sort of gainful employment in the future other than working at the admissions office of a lesser law school. Yes, him and I did spend each and every night, snuggled up in a full size bed at a villa in the Bahamas. And yes, there were other sleeping options. And yes, we chose against those options. We also sipped the great nectar of the gods, more formally known as Malibu and Orange Juice. We did meet to native Bohamians that took us on a 1 hour drive in a 1996 honda civic in search for lost dreams in a green like plant form. We did cry during this act. In the same trip, a close, mutual un-named friend, did defy the laws of the human body by releasing bodily fluids out of two orifices simultaneously.

We did sip on 137 bottles of 70% Shiraz/30% Merlot Yellow tail wine until we saw the sunrise. We did make the Burnette's family $25,000 dollar in revenue throughout 4 years of undergrad, which is approx 3,125 liters worth of low grade vodka for those unfamiliar. We did laugh, we did cry, we did send 8 page text messages when verizon only allowed 7, it pays to know people. We made backyard firals, skip classes, dominated midterms, opened a flask in Thursday night science lab. Amphetamines burst in and out of our veins to assure the grades stayed up and the parents kept writing the tuition checks. We did succeed.

Today, as Nico crosses that stage, I am reminded about all the good things we have done and experience in this quarter century thus far. It also gives me a glimpse of the future, and the smiles, successes, nerves, scares, loves lost, and loves gained that are sure to come with a vengeance.

We are all proud of you Nico and your success. I know you are bound to do many great things with that degree and a few really really bad things. But that's the thing about this life - Balancing work and play, and being an all around, "winner." Today, you have won. Revel in it. There are sure to be hard times to come, and better times to follow.

Congrats buddy and god- fucking- speed.

Ryan

Oh Good, It is Raining....Again

It rains a lot this time of year in Boston. A portentous haze builds around the waning moon, warning us of shadows to come for the third consecutive day. There is something about a dreary and wet New England morning that makes you strangely comfortable with the idea of pouring three shots worth of baileys or cheap whiskey in your coffee to bring some light to the day. Another perk of arriving early to the office so that the liquor has enough time to burn out of your mouth by the second and third cup of Joe, which are unfortunately void of any intoxicant.

Trains fill up with Zeta Tau Alpha's and Kappa Kappa Gammas riding into government center or North station for the commencement ceremonies. Unaffected by the tumultuous winds and soggy black gowns, they look forward to a few weeks of drunken Greek-like festivities while I contemplate what piece of office equipment I can break and not get blamed for, just to add excitement to the day. It often seems like I am complaining, but truly due enjoy my monotonous life for the most part. Knowing that each day will be there, and I wont have to duck a curveball, is comforting in its own right.

Still the rain continues, and still I refuse to purchase an umbrella. A piece of life equipment I always felt was inadequate. Most are too small, or flimsy, others make you look like a fucking idiot. As the nylon device fails to achieve its one purpose, keeping you dry from head to toe, you find its leaving you unbalanced as your body is pulled in the direction of oncoming traffic due to gusts of wind hailing from a not so distant shore. If you are fortunate to have one of those ridiculously sized Mary Poppins umbrellas and you are in fact dry for the most part, you look down and realized the most expensive part of you outfit, your shoes, are completely drenches and the brown leather is pure black as you can now see the outline of your toes. Fun.

You find me one person who enjoys rain, other than to assist in sleep or welcome a cuddle session, and I will find you a liar. I am not saying it has to be bright and sunny everyday because I can assure you that would burn me out. But, if we could pump the brakes on the precipitation around these parts it would be greatly appreciated, just tap the ol' pads every so fucking slightly. I believe it would be appreciated by all.

My walk to the metro, or should I say the goddamn "T" only allows for about 1 minute of exposure so I am being a raging child about the whole scenario. I am sure Mr. Fitness who rides 6 miles to Cambridge on his bicycle wearing shorts and fantastic Helly Hansen jacket, while carrying his over the shoulder bag and a gallon of protein has it much worse. But I digress. Good lord, I just want to leave the office today without getting wet. There is a time and place for that, and its not on my commute.