Tuesday, February 15

Self Portrait XV

Somehow I find myself in the middle. 43, after all - half way to the end zone, contemplating secondary schools for the kids, watching Sonnet in her museum career and working on mine. Waiting for Cal in the Rose Bowl. Admittedly, my generation off to a late start - many of us remaining at home until our 30s, avoiding occupations and marriage until later still. The delay perhaps due to a stagnant US economy in the early '90s, but my suspicion simply that many of us could. Or maybe the stall from some sense of entitlement, passed down from our comfortable parents, who instilled in our psyches the belief that our lives would be more interesting, more rich, more exciting than theirs. Such expectations high enough to be unobtainable and so .. why bother?


My years at home, age 26-27, were two of the best: I met Sonnet, traveled the world and visited a few dodgy third-world bars, reconnected with Northern California. .. and even saved some money somehow. Most of all, I got to know my parents in a different way. For one, I had a job. Those sunny afternoons, usually following a return-commute from Sonoma where Help The World See and Dr Wayne Cannon located, as simple as a glass of Chardonnay or picking up Sonnet at the BART station. I drove down the coast by myself or with friends to catch waves with Danny in Santa Cruz. Or drink coffee at Cafe Royal in Rockridge discussing, for hours, life-or-death decisions : make money or do good? Where? When? How? My biggest commitment to running a marathon. Yes, there was a lot of slack but some meaningful exploration, too.

Maybe this all ties together with a Brown interview this morning - the kid 18 years old, on his "gap" year in Australia, and everything ahead of him.