It Seemed Flippant to Me
I wrote an earlier post about the death of one of my heros Anthony Bourdain. My cousin Ian responded and noted that he honored his father. My response was:
I'd be the first person to agree that my view of the world isn't for everyone. Or anyone. I've been off the beaten path for so long now that I don't know where it is anymore.
I came to regret this post. It seemed flippant to me. I came up with another response. This is below.
Ian, the above response, although reflective of my thinking, might sound dismissive. I don't mean to be dismissive. I try hard to not be an asshole. I honor your thinking about your father. Sadly I haven't see either of you in a very long time and can't know this first hand. I would love to have a similar feeling. Mine passed away when I was very young. I don't really remember him. But in some way I've missed his presence for almost all of my life.
My life has been a strange thing. I have had this sense of not fitting in for as long as I can remember. I am a weirdo. A geek. I'm the guy that never gets picked for the sports team. This unease, sadness, anger frequently manifests itself as sarcasm. I whip out my intellect and pour my misery out on some unsuspecting victim. I apologize if I come across this way.
When I find a few people out there that have some sympathy with my lack of fitting in, especially if they are smart and articulate, I feel a pretty deep kinship. Their loss (Bourdain, Heinlein, Williams, Thompson) really gets to me. They were people like me. There are very few people like me. And they're dead.
I'd be the first person to agree that my view of the world isn't for everyone. Or anyone. I've been off the beaten path for so long now that I don't know where it is anymore.
I came to regret this post. It seemed flippant to me. I came up with another response. This is below.
Ian, the above response, although reflective of my thinking, might sound dismissive. I don't mean to be dismissive. I try hard to not be an asshole. I honor your thinking about your father. Sadly I haven't see either of you in a very long time and can't know this first hand. I would love to have a similar feeling. Mine passed away when I was very young. I don't really remember him. But in some way I've missed his presence for almost all of my life.
My life has been a strange thing. I have had this sense of not fitting in for as long as I can remember. I am a weirdo. A geek. I'm the guy that never gets picked for the sports team. This unease, sadness, anger frequently manifests itself as sarcasm. I whip out my intellect and pour my misery out on some unsuspecting victim. I apologize if I come across this way.
When I find a few people out there that have some sympathy with my lack of fitting in, especially if they are smart and articulate, I feel a pretty deep kinship. Their loss (Bourdain, Heinlein, Williams, Thompson) really gets to me. They were people like me. There are very few people like me. And they're dead.
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