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You know, there are people, out there, in the world, who contemplate the vast cosmos. They formulate theories on the expansion or compression of the universe, measure the heat given off by quasars, determine the mass of a black hole. I can’t. I took an Astronomy class at a Junior College and got an A though.

There are people in the world who write immense and rich novels, who effortlessly put pen to paper like magic, whose words shake the core of all beings. Not me. I published a book of silly poetry when I was sixteen, and my blog is pretty cool, I guess.

Some people are six and a half feet tall, considered the best athletes in the world, have millions of dollars, can jump four feet in the air, and score eighty points a game. When I was ten years old, I made two free-throws with seven seconds left to win my pee-wee basketball game. My dad’s got it on tape.

Some people renounce the world’s pleasures. They escape to a mountaintop to contemplate existence in silence. They sit still for hours, breathing in and out, becoming one with their surroundings. Then they return from their mountaintop, write famous books, and travel the world in attempts to spread their enlightenment to awestruck crowds. I attend a meditation group once a week. I can’t sit on the floor though, because of a bad knee, and tight hips and back. So I sit on a chair in the back of the room. The teacher says I’m still meditating though. I swear, ask him.

I go to school with some people who don’t even have to study to get good grades. At the high school I went to, there was a guy, Josh, who sat on the tables in the classroom and never once brought a pen, paper, or a backpack to school. Yet, he still got A’s. Everyone called him Jesus. Not me though. I sit in the front row, turn my cell phone off, ask questions when I need help, and spend hours at home relentlessly rehearsing notecards while I do silly laps around my apartment. Sometimes, I’ll abbreviate words on the notecards though. You know, like words I should probably write entirely out.

Some people are born to play music. They pick up drumsticks or a guitar and just play. Some people compose timeless symphonies that move the heart’s mountains. When I was young, I played the Jurassic Park theme song for a piano recital. If you ask me, I got the biggest ovation of the entire day. And one time, I played drums to a Goo Goo Dolls song…. in the dark.

Some people carve mountains with snowboards, doing flips and dodging trees. Me, I’ve got a bruised tailbone from going down a bunny slope. I just bought a butt pad though, so next time, it’s on.

For some people, being social comes naturally. The kids I went to elementary school with are all doctors or lawyers by now.

Me? Well, I’m still finding out about that. One day at a time, I suppose. What’s certain is that I’m not the best at anything. But I sure have done a lot. I guess, if I want to, I can say I am a writer. But if that’s true, then I guess I’m a drummer and piano player too. And in that case, I might as well say I’m a weightlifter and a Jiu-Jitsu fighter. Hmm. Yeah I’m a drum and piano playing, weightlifting, Jiu-Jitsu fighting writer. I’m definitely a student. Okay, okay, so in this culture, where we are defined by what we do, I’m a drum and piano playing, weightlifting, Jiu-Jitsu fighting, meditating, educated writer. That’s it! So next time I’m at Literati Café in Brentwood, and one of my elementary school classmates comes up to me to say hello, and to tell me that they’ve just graduated from Harvard Law School, and now they’re a lawyer, I’ll know exactly what to say.


One Comment

  1. YOU are the BEST at being a SON!

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