Waving Goodbye
I go to university in the next town, about fifteen miles from home. The original plan was for me to move out; it didn't last too long, as the fraternity life was quickly shown to be the wrong atmosphere for me. Part of the problem was that my initial Navy training prevented me from fully participating in formal recruitment week, so I was essentially confined to the one lousy house that had shown a lot of interest in me during the summer. That's the house that I joined, and by the end of the week I'd moved back home.
Part of being a conservative, at least for me, is disliking change. Everyone has to acknowledge that change is going to happen, but you don't have to like it, and I don't. In the past year and a half, most of my friends have graduated and essentially disappeared from my life. I haven't seen my friend Rampage since June, I've seen Big Red once since May, and I've had next to no contact with Harley Starr since June, just a couple of E-Mails and a two minute phone call.
Now my brother, Twitley, is leaving. I'm twenty-two; he's nineteen. We're absolute polar opposites. I'll have a degree in June, I'm religious, I follow politics, and I like reading, writing, and the Internet. Twitley barely finished high school, it took him a year after graduating high school to even decide to do any real higher education program, and that's a diesel mechanic training program. He's a party animal, completely irresponsible. We've never much gotten along.
Today I rode with him out to see mom's family for Christmas. On the way out he played "Convoy" by some old redneck; he stopped the pickup so that he could find the tape. I don't know if I'll miss him or not; he'll be gone for at least nine months. It will be strange not to have him around here. I never figured he'd be the first of the two of us to move away; but there it was today. Almost everything he receieved for Christmas was related to him moving out. Pillows. Flatware. Dishes. Dish soap. Monday morning he'll be gone.
I'll be gone soon enough. June, July, August, September... By the end of the year, I'll be somewhere. Maybe England. Maybe the DC area doing intelligence work. Maybe at Officer Candidate School. I'll be out on my own, with only fleeting help and contact with everything I've known since before I can remember. Except for this Summer, I've spent my entire life in this house.
Next Christmas, I'll probably have no more company than a bottle of Guinness and a leftover Quizno's sandwich. I'll watch Gattaca or Gladiator or Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, or maybe Rattle and Hum.
I posted a week or so ago that life had been rocky enough lately that I've taken to reading Job. I don't feel like Job; I haven't had anything truly taken from me. I just feel hollow right now.
Anyway. You're probably sick of reading this drivel about me and my brother leaving, and not being a fan of Christmas and whatnot; I need to go to bed, but before I do I may as well take solace in some scripture quoted by U2 in 1983.
"Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; 31 but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." - Isaiah 40:30-31
G'night, wankers. Have a pint for me.
Part of being a conservative, at least for me, is disliking change. Everyone has to acknowledge that change is going to happen, but you don't have to like it, and I don't. In the past year and a half, most of my friends have graduated and essentially disappeared from my life. I haven't seen my friend Rampage since June, I've seen Big Red once since May, and I've had next to no contact with Harley Starr since June, just a couple of E-Mails and a two minute phone call.
Now my brother, Twitley, is leaving. I'm twenty-two; he's nineteen. We're absolute polar opposites. I'll have a degree in June, I'm religious, I follow politics, and I like reading, writing, and the Internet. Twitley barely finished high school, it took him a year after graduating high school to even decide to do any real higher education program, and that's a diesel mechanic training program. He's a party animal, completely irresponsible. We've never much gotten along.
Today I rode with him out to see mom's family for Christmas. On the way out he played "Convoy" by some old redneck; he stopped the pickup so that he could find the tape. I don't know if I'll miss him or not; he'll be gone for at least nine months. It will be strange not to have him around here. I never figured he'd be the first of the two of us to move away; but there it was today. Almost everything he receieved for Christmas was related to him moving out. Pillows. Flatware. Dishes. Dish soap. Monday morning he'll be gone.
I'll be gone soon enough. June, July, August, September... By the end of the year, I'll be somewhere. Maybe England. Maybe the DC area doing intelligence work. Maybe at Officer Candidate School. I'll be out on my own, with only fleeting help and contact with everything I've known since before I can remember. Except for this Summer, I've spent my entire life in this house.
Next Christmas, I'll probably have no more company than a bottle of Guinness and a leftover Quizno's sandwich. I'll watch Gattaca or Gladiator or Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, or maybe Rattle and Hum.
I posted a week or so ago that life had been rocky enough lately that I've taken to reading Job. I don't feel like Job; I haven't had anything truly taken from me. I just feel hollow right now.
Anyway. You're probably sick of reading this drivel about me and my brother leaving, and not being a fan of Christmas and whatnot; I need to go to bed, but before I do I may as well take solace in some scripture quoted by U2 in 1983.
"Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; 31 but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." - Isaiah 40:30-31
G'night, wankers. Have a pint for me.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home