Back in the 70's, the future that my parents looked forward to doesn't exist for me. I won't get social security, and retiring? Shit, I'll be working until they're shoveling dirt on my fucking head, degree or not. Reality is always ends up different than what we plan for. I would love to save fifty grand for my son's college and buy a house with a dog and a big yard with a shed to keep rusty tools and terrifying spiders in. But I've heard that announcing your plans is a good way to hear God laugh.
Thirty years ago, the plan for success, I was told, was highschool, college, marriage, kids. In that order. The first half of your life was a miserable struggle, all to ensure that the second half would be just ok, or adequate. My generation was raised to believe that success equals happiness. I believe it should be, and can be, happiness equals success. We've made our lives so much more complicated, but the silver lining is that there are many ways to be happy now. Work is work. Someone might tell you, "do what you love, and it won't feel like work". I love reading books and playing video games, since no one will pay me to do those things, I think it's more accurate to say, "do what you like, and you'll be in a better mindset to improve the rest of your life, if it needs it". I like working on computers, so that career will be something i can show up to without it feeling like the job is draining the vitamins out of my body. I know every job has its bullshit, it can be long hours or a boss that's so far in your business they'll show up on your next MRI.
My family's happiness is more important to me than anything. Anything. I would rather give them some comfort now, rather than try to deprive them of things so my 401k will be perfect when I'm 65. My father had a multitude of flaws, but if I can be half the father he was, I'll be alright. That's why the last thing I said to him before he died was, "Dad, I love you", and he deserved every one of my tears, and then some. Nothing is guaranteed, tho we as humans, and especially Americans, act as if we're entitled to a perfect, easy life. We forget about what's important. Instead we consume everything around us like a black hole until there is only darkness. We waste food, and whine about the government taking away our machine guns. And God forbid one of our precious gadgets breaks, then we're on the phone with customer service screaming into the receiver like we're calling them from the future. By the way, for my readers under 25, a receiver is the part of a payphone that you speak into, payphones still exist right?
I hope I can teach Grayson, my still gestating son, the value of things. The value of family and friends and even the value of a dollar. I hope that I can teach him to learn from his mistakes and to know what's worth fighting for and what to get upset over, like when you get every answer right in Jeopardy and there's no one around to witness it. I even got the 17th century Russian literature question right in final jeopardy, dammit. When he's born, he'll settle after the trauma of birth and give me that look that all babies give to their parents. He'll have all the profound wisdom of the universe in his little eyes, and he'll look at me as if to say "Dad, soon I'll forget about all this as I get older, but I want you to know that it's going to be ok, and I love you". That's my boy.
"With a little love,
and some tenderness,
we'll walk upon the water,
we'll rise above the mess.
With a little peace,
and some harmony,
we'll take the world together,
we'll take them by the hand." --- Hootie and the Blowfish
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