Monday, April 7, 2014

Blame My Mom

I hate my parents. I know what you are thinking, "well that is awfully angsty for a grown man who still lives in his mom's basement!" But here me out, or hear me out because the latter actually makes sense, stupid fingers not understanding homophones.

My parents have always been supportive, if I decided to run off on a new career path my mom was always there with a tin of chocolate covered pretzels and a smile that in hindsight read more like, "Awe my son is going to add another failed endeavor to his list, what did I do to not deserve a son who grew up to be rich and buy me a house," rather than the reading at the time, "Oh, you're going to be great at (fill in random soon-to-be failure)." But I have to say, the chocolate pretzels taste the same in both scenarios, so I am chalking this one up as a win.

I was going to be an astronaut till someone told me the sky was the limit, "screw that"' Said 8-year old me.
You think I was joking about living in my moms basement, I'm not though, yes I moved out for years, lived all around the country and had every dead end job that one can physically possess in a seven year time period. I found myself voluntarily jobless at the end of 2011 and decided to take some time to see my family through the holidays, somehow that stretched into 26 months of living in my home town, I did move out for the summer and live with some college kids, but other than that short period I lived, clichély in my moms basement. But guess what you aren't here to listen about my life story, well, yes you are, just not that life story, so back to the topic.

Throughout my moves around the country I constantly downsized, storing more and more stuff with my parents. The other day I was searching for some camera equipment and had a nice flash back. My stuff consisted of scuba gear, bike equipment, a couple bass guitars, a slew of computer parts, boxes of football cards, hot wheels, beanie babies and the camera stuff I had been searching for. It was like walking through a grave yard of my dreams, from professional athlete to rock star, small business owner to computer geek. Do you know what it's like to have all your failures thrown in your face? I hope not, sincerely, because it sucked.
See I was in a rock band! On paper...literally!
To think this all could have been averted if only my loving mother  would have just said no, or went all tiger mom and forced me into learning the piano and studying anatomy books in elementary school. But no! My parents thought it would be a great idea to let me wander from one interest to another, successfully nurturing me into a "jack of all trades, master of none," which turns out, despite my deep seeded belief in my own awesomeness, to be a bad thing.

That deep seeded belief in my own awesomeness, where does that stem from? Clearly not reality, clearly not any reward for years of successful conquests, my childhood is a battlefield of wasted time and half-assed attempts at anything my silly brain could come up with.

You know what else? I have no creativity, none! I could have never been a rock star, rock stars moms didn't make them cookies for band practice, they threw empty beer bottles at them and told them they would be nothing! I have no obstacles to overcome, so I successfully became someone who runs away from walls of resistance, unless my mom is with me, because that woman gets shit done!

Landlord is being a jerk: Call mom
Taxes don't make sense: Call mom
The guy in apartment 406 is a bully: Call mom
Cops arrested you for soliciting a prostitute: Don't call your mom, she is already disappointed in you!
"...but mom, she said she thought I was funny!"
So when you go on a date with me, that your friend set me up on, because I am terrified of women, don't blame me when I cower in the corner while douchebag Brad tells you how the gap in your teeth disgusts him.

Yeah, you went home with him, but I forgave you...because I have no spine.
Don't be surprised with me when we get married (you like having a guy you can control) and the server charges us for a desert we never got and my mom unexpectedly shows up (I called her from the bathroom) to settle the check. And when it comes time to make a living for our children (we had to use in vitro because even my sperm are terrified of women) if you find my only useful career skill is being a middle manager at a retail outlet, but don't worry my mom was totally in the delivery room for the birth because I would have just passed out.
Hey it's me walking into the wilderness, by the way this ends with me hanging off a cliff 500 feet off the ground, tearing up, like a bitch. but that's a story for another day.
Wait...maybe that was my mom's plan all along! Make me helpless so I could never leave her, so she wouldn't have to go all crazy empty nest syndrome and baby sit other peoples kids, who definitely aren't as special as me, damnit! I knew she was smart but a quarter century plan to keep me from ever leaving home, that's cray cray...but well...it does kind of make more sense than the other option, that I'm not as spectacular as I think I am...Hahahahahaha....

6 comments:

  1. In living as you have ultimately you made choices to move from place to place, interest to interest. It hasn't failed you it has turned you into a curious, interesting and well-rounded person. I don't measure my success on a career or income neither should you. The experiences you've had are success. What you're "profession" is consists of influences, mistakes and experiences. And to be your age and to be where you are is success. You're an explorer, you live to see/try new things, run with that.

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    1. I certainly can't say my life hasn't been exciting. And perspective is an amazing thing. Thanks

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  2. Taking a trip down memory lane can be a somewhat dangerous pastime to partake in. Hindsight is always twenty, twenty. Opening a box and confronting old hobbies or endeavors can be depressing, or it can be motivating to start back up with those unfinished projects. And you only assume that your mother forcing you into piano would somehow instill a sense of musical interest in you at a young age, but that is only piece to the puzzle that creates musicians. Without culture, art, history, timing, and a little luck on your side… who’s to say you wouldn’t have just chucked that interest at some point down the way? I was a Weeblow and then a Boy Scout for a while, but ultimately quit because everyone in my troop was like five years older than me so I didn’t know anyone or have many friends outside the kids I already knew from school. Sure, it would have been awesome to keep going and be an Eagle Scout for college applications, but that just wasn’t in the works for me. Sometimes you have to be able to read the writing on thee wall, or be brave enough to ignore it. Knowing how to play guitar is great, but unless you meet those three kids who are equally as talented, motivated, or are a Trent Reznor type and can do it all yourself… it’s unlikely those guitar lessons will morph you into a rockstar (not that this isn’t a viable goal still, just less likely). Some people are born with talent, yes, but others work very hard for it and take years to discover what that talent really ever is. And nobody ever really regrets travel or tours of self-discovery. As long as you know you aren’t specifically just biding your time and are trying to still figure it out, I wouldn’t worry at all. We’re already getting to an age where we’re seeing kids who spent 7 years studying one thing start over at different careers, get divorced, moved, switch political or religious affiliations, etc. Just because it seems like everyone else has it figured out, doesn’t make it so. That’s just a by-product of the Facebook syndrome and seeing people only advertise the best parts of their life. Speaking of mothers, I'm not sure my Mom started doing taxes until 40 and she loves it. My dad was lucky enough to stumble onto his passion in high school. Everyone is different.

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    1. Well said Dylan. I was at dinner the other night with a couple kids who worked for Apple and Google and I thought, "Damn these kids have the life!" They spent the night telling me how awesome it was I had the guts to just try something insane. It's all about perspective, you always see the greener grass down the road, but forget you weren't planting grass, you were building a garden.

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  3. There was no plan to keep you in the basement. It is funny how we see things. I started when you were a freshman in high school to stop taking care of your problems. So you really have been handling all of this yourself for a long time! The whole being afraid of women thing...you are on your own with that!

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    1. Well now I'm not in the basement anymore! And I wouldn't mind you solving my jobless problem with a call to someone important. Ha!

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