My great-grandfather was always old. Even when I would ride my bike to his condo, and he would drive us to the mall so I could play at the arcade, he was wrinkled and gray. Born in the beginning of the 20th century, he was surprisingly nonplussed about the technological revolution that he’d witnessed throughout his life. He had a VCR and loved to watch “those darkies” boxing over and over again. I cried when my mother called to tell me that he died, a year shy of making it into the 21st century. Had he survived, I can picture his gnarled finger swiping an iPad or buying more “darkie boxing” videos from Amazon.com
Law school was an interesting experience for me and one that I would recommend to the right types of people. It’s no exaggeration to say that while a student, you learn to think in a way different from most people. Your world becomes all about semantics and wordplay, about perspective and viewpoints and realizing that nothing is black and white. And once you’ve had your eyes opened to that worldview, it’s almost impossible to go back.
The only trophy I ever got for football was “Participant”, which is only slightly better than the “Best Sportsmanship” trophy I got for baseball. I played flag football for our local league before starting high school. I was big and strong but had the athletic skill of a double amputee. I played center and with the exception of receiving the occasional button-hook pass, rarely moved down field. All of the players’ shirts were smalls and mediums, for some reason, so the coach gave me a “Coach” shirt to wear instead. Every player from every team just called me Coach and deferred to me, like I was actually someone they should listen to. Maybe that’s when I knew that I liked to be in charge.
Anyone who sees my bedroom and the myriad Batman statues (THEY’RE NOT CALLED ACTION FIGURES, DAMMIT) will assume that Batman is my favorite hero. He’s in the top five, but the truth is that Superman will always be my favorite. He’s the hero who’s always there to save the day. He rescues everyone, he’s invulnerable, and he doesn’t show any weakness. He’s above everyone else, but he’d never remind anyone that that’s the case. To me, there is no better example of what a superhero is. Also, this may explain the massive hero complex that I have.
Marisa Frost and I were best friends in college. We loved Seinfeld, Friends, ER, The Simpsons, and everything else. Leaving her after graduation was a difficult task. The Christmas following, as I was acclimating to the law school environment, I received this box in the mail. She made two sock puppets – Adam, with real mooning action, and Marisa, with real glam hair. I’ve kept that box and those puppets just like I received them and they’ve moved with me from Saint Louis to Los Angeles to Orlando, always existing as a reminder of why my friends are the most important people in my life.
This post is part of the FRIENDS photo-a-day challenge. Join me on it – I’ll be supplementing my photos with prose as well.