The Perpetual Wanderers
My live as of late has been reduced to worrying and waiting for sunday to come. After coming home from (miz) New Jzork I have been caught in a strange whirlwind of events leading me in all kinds of directions. Now more than ever do I want to quit my job. I just dont deal well with the poison gary feeds me all day. Ever since I began working there I have felt a slow decline in my mental health and its really taking a toll on me. Now it is just a matter of finding another yob somewhere where I dont have to sacrifice so much of my happiness. My parents, being predictably themselves, have managed to orchestrate their latest escape to California without any notice. My brother called me yesterday to say he was in town to see mom and dad before they left. So we went to see them at their house in Isle of Hope ( an interesting location for them to reside) and every single chachki had been packed up in still-to-be-sealed Costco boxes of all sizes. I immediately flashed back to every second year of my childhood. They left for Sunny Sandy Barbra this morning at 2 am. On a whim. As always. For the first time their nomadic instincts have no effect on me geographically. I dont know if my parents will ever be comfortable in their own skin, and I know they will never be able to make sense of all the time they waste. They lack the ability to commit to anything long term. They are just waiting for their lottery ticket to be called so they can finally taste sweet INSTANT gratification. I dont think they comprehend the concept of building in any sense. They just love new beginnings and hope more than they love the monotony of reality. So I suppose in a way they are happy, always finding new goals and building new realities for themselves. working towards new goals, but quite reaching them.
It is a scary thing, worrying about your parents. I am sure most people worry about their parents for some reason, but I have to constantly worry about how their life is going to turn out. I have to mentally follow their decisions and see if there is any happiness at the end of the path they are now deciding to follow. its exhausting. with every new beginning we had as kids our parents would work out all kinds of new exciting things we would have once we were settled in to our new life. they would always make a list of promises, from stuff they would buy us, to vacations that we would (never) take. I dont know if part of their downfall is trying to obtain the small prizes before finishing what they started or if they just dont have the skills to succeed in life. I know my mother does, or did at least, but my dad is just the biggest kid ever to become a parent.
In no way though would I ever insult my fathers intentions or morals. One of the weirdest bonding experiences I have had with my father was in his absence. After he lost his job in wyoming and we moved into the hotel in colorado he was out of work for a long while. The church payed for our hotel on the grounds that my dad would find a job and get back on his feet, but he quickly grew really sick from a kidney stone and was hospitalized. That left me and my sister and brother in a hotel room for a little over a week with a most pathetic collection of snacks that lasted a couple days.Finally on day EIGHT some people from the church had pizza delivered to us. And that pizza tasted better than any food I have ever had the pleasure of eating to this day. As a six or seven year old boy, being deprived of food for days on end is a very traumatic experience. I remember sitting on the floor in the hotel room staring at the ad for pizza hut next to the telephone and closing my eyes and praying to god that when I opened them I would be back at my old house in california where there was food and friends. I had a bike and neighbors and a normal life and it just blew me away that I couldnt have any of it anymore. But finally my dad was released from the hospital. I think he got a job putting up dry wall or something and things slowly got better over the next few weeks. It was a particularly awful winter that year in Colorado. Lots of snow. The hotel sat right next to gas station, where I had my first taste of coffee. My dad and I walked over all bundled to the point that we waddled over there. he bought a large cup of coffee and a pastry. We sat in the laundry mat next store and shared both. He treated the coffee as though it were something that I shouldnt tell my mother about. I felt very wise and manly. But I also felt like I deserved it. we ate a lot of potatoes and beans that year. The food that food banks give you is so strange. Cheese, no bread. Cereal, no milk. Beans potatoes and lots of condiments. But my dad made the most delicious potato triangles and we poured the ketchup on. I am pretty sure that is one reason why I can never eat to many french fries. I just thank god I was as young as I was because most of everything went over my head until years later and life was a pretty fun adventure. my sister however was in sixth and seventh grade and Im sure it hurt her a lot more than my brother and I. After those years my parents felt the need to buy us everything we wanted whenever possible. hence the promises. But my dad did work his way into good jobs and we were in and out of nice houses with good furniture and had food all the time. My mom made it back from jail and we were all together and happy that we had food and eachother, but it was only a matter of time until my dad would lose his job and we would come home to electricity or hot water. and then move weeks later to a smaller house, and then move again and again and wash rinse repeat. even today. One reason why I moved out as soon as humanly possible. The sooner I could become and independent human being the better. I dont know why I felt the need to write about all that tonight, really there is so much good embedded in the bad, it just sounds like a sob story, but it really is the greatest thing that shaped me, and I wouldnt have wanted to grow up any other way. I would never trade the experience and understanding for a few more childhood years of blind comfort. I think that as a result however I am very flippant and nonchalant about a lot of things. Who knows.