The Stars Align
Since about mid-August, my long-time friend and confidant, Bridget Lough, has been planning to come visit me; the tickets she bought bring her in on the 26th and take her back out on the 30th. This impending visit is, at once, a source of great excitement and anxiety, but I have been looking forward to it since this Summer.
Just a few days ago, my dear friend, Carl Britt, shot me a message : "How far is Kirksville from St. Louis?"
Something you should know about Carl is that he hates acquiring information unless that information is absolutely necessary; so, when he asked about a city over 600 miles away from him, I was intrigued.
"CAKE is playing there on October 28th, and my mom keeps saying I should visit you....."
I could hardly contain my excitement. The idea of having both Carl and Bridget visit me on the same weekend.... I would feel more at home than I did when my parents visited. My friends become part of my family, and those two top the list. Furthermore, to have both of them at the same time would help them each feel more comfortable. Plus we'd drive 3 hours to see CAKE at some college out in the boonies.... my mind searched the scenario for some problem, some hitch in my getalong, something stuck in my craw... but I could find no conflicts.
Now, I change the subject only slightly. I do not know what kind of audience Suite 3100 enjoys, nor do I know how that audience may feel about Carl's posts. Many have claimed--Carl and myself included--that blogs are just a space for self-centered storytelling and futile rants; I felt that Suite 3100 had strong elements of self-centered storytelling, but a very weak representation of the blindly hateful rants which have made blogging so popular. To fill that void, I invited Carl to join the blog, though he lives roughly 550 miles away from Suite 3100.
Carl can rant. Were he older, I might suspect that Carl invented ranting; we can be sure that he, at least, reinvented it. Carl's ability to rant owes a great debt of gratitude to Carl's father, Stu, who has provided Carl with some of the most hopelessly frustrating situations he is ever likely to encounter.
For instance, one day this Summer, Carl brought three slices of pizza home from his job as a Summer Camp counselor. He set those slices on the kitchen table, then he and I went upstairs to his room. When we returned, half an hour later, we found Stu lounging at the kitchen table. He flung a pizza crust onto his plate, where two other crusts sat, then licked his fingers. Stu then instructed Carl to take the pizza box out to the garbage can on the curb.
......boom
The resulting conflict lasted at least two hours. Bridget showed up sometime between the initial argument--in which Stu, quite enfuriatingly, stayed calm--and the aftermath. I cannot describe the pure fury that was displayed that afternoon. I could not even recount, were I asked to, the number of valuable cards Carl pulled in the course of the argument (by "Cards" I mean various marks against Stu which had little or nothing to do with the argument, yet were employed to weaken his credIbility). I can only say that the whole ordeal resulted in Carl being too physically ill to go to a movie for which he had already bought a ticket; instead, he slept for three hours.
Folks, as long as I have known Carl, he has always been willing and able to roll a J; on this day, he could not steady his knowing hands, for they were filled with bile.
But I digress. Despite Carl's preternatural talent for ranting, he has certain limitations : first, as exemplified above, is that he cannot win against his father; they are very much alike, but Stu is far more experienced. Second, there are some people Carl will only rant about if he thinks they'll never hear.
The second is, of course, a natural use of ranting; sometimes we want to assert ourselves without actually asserting ourselves, so we rant to a third-party. Though I have heard many (many many many....) Carl rants about traffic, bad parking, how much he hates frat parties, breast size being inauthentically enhanced in overweight people--the list goes on and on--most of the Carl rants I am privy to are of a personal nature.
By "personal" I mean of or relating to a specific individual who has done something to piss Carl off.
So, in my very roundabout way, I return to my original topic: the weekend of October 28th, or the weekend before Halloween. It was to my great dismay that I learned that Carl had some previous engagement on that weekend and might not be able to come. Just a bad run of luck, I figured, until I learned why he could not come.
There are some experiences in life which are just more valuable than others. I typically try not to espouse this view; I am content to do the things that I do, and I leave others to do whatever makes them happiest. Something that would make me very happy is to have my two best friends visit me on the same weekend, during which we would drive 200 miles to see one of our very favorite bands. I feel like that sort of adventure is worth having.I feel like that sort of thing is worth fighting for. I feel like this is the sort of once-in-a-lifetime things that your grandparents are always telling you not to pass up.
And to forgo all of that to go to some frat parties? Neither insanity nor stupidity could describe such a decision. Calling it a "bad decision" still manages to understate it.
It's just wrong.
-Alan
Just a few days ago, my dear friend, Carl Britt, shot me a message : "How far is Kirksville from St. Louis?"
Something you should know about Carl is that he hates acquiring information unless that information is absolutely necessary; so, when he asked about a city over 600 miles away from him, I was intrigued.
"CAKE is playing there on October 28th, and my mom keeps saying I should visit you....."
I could hardly contain my excitement. The idea of having both Carl and Bridget visit me on the same weekend.... I would feel more at home than I did when my parents visited. My friends become part of my family, and those two top the list. Furthermore, to have both of them at the same time would help them each feel more comfortable. Plus we'd drive 3 hours to see CAKE at some college out in the boonies.... my mind searched the scenario for some problem, some hitch in my getalong, something stuck in my craw... but I could find no conflicts.
Now, I change the subject only slightly. I do not know what kind of audience Suite 3100 enjoys, nor do I know how that audience may feel about Carl's posts. Many have claimed--Carl and myself included--that blogs are just a space for self-centered storytelling and futile rants; I felt that Suite 3100 had strong elements of self-centered storytelling, but a very weak representation of the blindly hateful rants which have made blogging so popular. To fill that void, I invited Carl to join the blog, though he lives roughly 550 miles away from Suite 3100.
Carl can rant. Were he older, I might suspect that Carl invented ranting; we can be sure that he, at least, reinvented it. Carl's ability to rant owes a great debt of gratitude to Carl's father, Stu, who has provided Carl with some of the most hopelessly frustrating situations he is ever likely to encounter.
For instance, one day this Summer, Carl brought three slices of pizza home from his job as a Summer Camp counselor. He set those slices on the kitchen table, then he and I went upstairs to his room. When we returned, half an hour later, we found Stu lounging at the kitchen table. He flung a pizza crust onto his plate, where two other crusts sat, then licked his fingers. Stu then instructed Carl to take the pizza box out to the garbage can on the curb.
......boom
The resulting conflict lasted at least two hours. Bridget showed up sometime between the initial argument--in which Stu, quite enfuriatingly, stayed calm--and the aftermath. I cannot describe the pure fury that was displayed that afternoon. I could not even recount, were I asked to, the number of valuable cards Carl pulled in the course of the argument (by "Cards" I mean various marks against Stu which had little or nothing to do with the argument, yet were employed to weaken his credIbility). I can only say that the whole ordeal resulted in Carl being too physically ill to go to a movie for which he had already bought a ticket; instead, he slept for three hours.
Folks, as long as I have known Carl, he has always been willing and able to roll a J; on this day, he could not steady his knowing hands, for they were filled with bile.
But I digress. Despite Carl's preternatural talent for ranting, he has certain limitations : first, as exemplified above, is that he cannot win against his father; they are very much alike, but Stu is far more experienced. Second, there are some people Carl will only rant about if he thinks they'll never hear.
The second is, of course, a natural use of ranting; sometimes we want to assert ourselves without actually asserting ourselves, so we rant to a third-party. Though I have heard many (many many many....) Carl rants about traffic, bad parking, how much he hates frat parties, breast size being inauthentically enhanced in overweight people--the list goes on and on--most of the Carl rants I am privy to are of a personal nature.
By "personal" I mean of or relating to a specific individual who has done something to piss Carl off.
So, in my very roundabout way, I return to my original topic: the weekend of October 28th, or the weekend before Halloween. It was to my great dismay that I learned that Carl had some previous engagement on that weekend and might not be able to come. Just a bad run of luck, I figured, until I learned why he could not come.
There are some experiences in life which are just more valuable than others. I typically try not to espouse this view; I am content to do the things that I do, and I leave others to do whatever makes them happiest. Something that would make me very happy is to have my two best friends visit me on the same weekend, during which we would drive 200 miles to see one of our very favorite bands. I feel like that sort of adventure is worth having.I feel like that sort of thing is worth fighting for. I feel like this is the sort of once-in-a-lifetime things that your grandparents are always telling you not to pass up.
And to forgo all of that to go to some frat parties? Neither insanity nor stupidity could describe such a decision. Calling it a "bad decision" still manages to understate it.
It's just wrong.
-Alan
posted by Alan Orlanski at 7:37 PM
2 Comments:
Hear, hear!
~Bridget
..........
-Kelsea
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