For a while my father has been nagging me that I’ll have to replace the Suburban sooner or later and I should start saving for a new car. When I struggled to get it through emissions most recently, due to accidently waterboarding the engine (while in storage in the backyard for some repairs, so no hydrolock), dad pointed out that I’d need to replace it within a year now because it likely wouldn’t pass again. Now, I don’t argue with my father. I’ve carefully constructed our relationship over the years as I’ve learned more about him. Come to think of it though, I don’t really argue with anyone. A really good way to not know how I feel or what I think is to be short with me or tell me what I should do or think in any closed-minded manner. With the settlement from my motorcycle accident upcoming, my father was giving me financial advice and brought up the truck again. This time, he had a new argument, “I know you’re not finding what you’re looking for in a woman, you may want to consider it has to do with your image.” I immediately felt not understood and wanted to talk to friends and ex-girlfriends for whom my truck reflected my identity. Later I called me mother and told her the story but joked that if buying a new truck would increase the number of women that wanted to date me, then I am going to try to keep this truck as long as possible to filter out those whose priorities conflict with mine.
Which brings up lifestyle. I’ve been talking about depth lately, let’s talk about adventure. C told me that boys she has dated in the past hadn’t included her in adventures because they didn’t think she could hack it. The other night I was itching for some kind of adventure, and was wistfully reminiscent of hiking around Cougar Mountain at night with A. I sent C a text message to see if she wanted some adventure. She replied that she wasn’t dressed for adventure, but that she’d like to hang out. She showed up dressed in flip-flops and a nice skirt. When I told this story to T, she rebuked that she’s had many an adventure in a skirt. But, it was a nice skirt. Which is to say, it wasn’t an adventure-ready skirt. Now, if I’ve just left my lawyers office in a suit, I’m going to head home to change before doing anything adventurous, granted, but that’s what, ten days a year? Tops. Probably like two on average. This is a matter of lifestyle. I had some really meaningful time with M the other night. I am jealous of her road-trip. Although, I’ve mostly been successful at putting the past in the past, and I’ve simultaneously been thinking a lot about not ‘worrying about problems before they are problems.’ So the period of being wistful about joining her is pretty much behind me. Still. Sometimes being successful and busy and doing good leaves you without time for proper adventure.
Successful. I remembered recently G admitting that she had thought she could ‘clean me up’ and help me be successful. For whatever the cost to build it, I’m glad my humility has kept me approachable.
Only by spending time with some of them after class, in their homes, did I make a connection between the relative opulence of their residences, the profession, style and grace of their parents, and how they behaved and were treated by the other kids at school.
It’s interesting to think that most of my humility, stoicism, and confidence come from my family and the environment in which I grew up in.