Okay, I apologize for not having posted any Reactions in God-knows-how-long. I assure you, there have been PLENTY, and I will get to them soon enough. Until then, I will present you with just a couple from tonight (both while gliding back from Georgetown):
20-something guy to his friend: "That guy's got a fuckin' Segway!"
attractive woman talking to friends outside my apartment: "That's awesome." ("Thanks!") "Do you ride that everywhere?" ("Yeah, pretty much.") Look of awe.
I swear, every time I am about to give up gliding because I don't like the constant attention and occasional snicker, I get comments like this that buoy my spirits...
I am pretty sure my Segway experience, coupled with my writing skills, would be enough to get me published in the Washington Post Sunday Magazine. Stay tuned. ;-)
Now, this caused immediate derision among comedians and bitter left-wing activists. Bush is an idiot! Look, see what he just said? Buffoon!
Well, I am not so sure. After almost seven years, I am starting to think that perhaps our president is not as dumb as he appears. On the contrary, it is possible that he is far smarter than anyone gives him credit for. Indeed, I am fairly certain that President Bush speaks in metaphors -- which would no doubt cause confusion among liberals determined to malign him at every opportunity. Further, the president probably does not say what he is thinking, and when he does pick up a thought in the middle, it is even more confusing for the rest of us, who were not privy to his original internal discussions. ( I am fairly certain he does this, because I used to be guilty of the same offense. in my freshman year writing composition course, I never provided enough background exposition, and my grade suffered for it.)
So let's go ahead and break down the president's remark:
It probably made perfect sense to the president, because he was thinking of a recent discussion he had had, and so to him, the context of his statement was clear. To the rest of us, it was not, at least not initially. But, clearly, the president had been discussing freedom in Iraq, and somebody had probably asked him, why are there no Iraqi revolutionaries stepping up? Why won't anyone stand up against the violence and the injustices -- Where are all the Iraqi Nelson Mandelas?
Well, the president must have responded, "No one is stepping up because all of the potential democratic reformers were killed in Saddam's regime. There are no more Nelson Mandelas..." (and this is where he started the story with the reporters) "...Mandela's dead because Saddam Hussein killed all the Mandelas."
In the president's mind, "Mandela" is a symbol for any outspoken Democratic activists. Now, I'm not sure if the president actually believes that there are no more potential activists in Iraq because Saddam killed them all, or whether he is simply speaking in hyperbole. But either way, he is clearly not unintelligible.
The key, then, to understanding the president, is to think like the president.
Several people have asked me, Where have I gone? I cannot blame them. According to my Web site, I have not updated in about two weeks now. For that, I apologize. Where have I been? Why have I not updated? the simple truth is that I have been busy with life and work. It is the new choir season, And I have been attempting to develop a worthwhile routine, and as anyone who is familiar with me knows, any routines that I develop will not have a lot of time built in for messing around. (The whole point of a routine for me, is to be the most productive I can in the fewest hours available. Unfortunately for all my loyal before I sleep visitors, updating my Web site is not the most worthwhile use of my time.)
Last week I realized that attitude is everything. I came to this conclusion while riding my Segway. I was going to write a very long and detailed post discussing my newfound take on life.I still may write the post. (The long and short of it is that I had been looking for all of the negative reactions that I got when riding the Segway, instead of looking for all the positive reactions. It turns out that there are ten times more openly positive reactions than openly negative reactions. The shift in view point has profoundly affected the way in which I go about my daily existence.)
However, that is an important post. As with most important things that I desire to write, they tend to get put on the back burner because I want to give them as much time as possible to make them worthwhile. That time usually never comes. So my most worthwhile posts, ironically, never get written.
Perhaps there is a pattern to my silence. Let me look at my archives and see when I have traditionally gone the most silent. (Checks archives.) Aha! Exactly as I had predicted. It turns out that last year I was also silent for a period of approximately two weeks at the end of September 2006. I wonder if this holds true for the year prior to that... indeed! In September 2005, I posted only one time. Admittedly, during the last two years I was attending classes in September of each year. It was the new academic year, and as such, I was understandably preoccupied. This year I do not have the same excuse, and yet, I am still the process of going through a rebirth of sorts.(Looking for a job, trying to get my new routine all settled in, trying to come to grips with the gym monster that lives two blocks away, etc.)
Although the responsibilities that I have in real life are mounting, I continue to feel a responsibility to you, the reader. To that end, I am going to give you a wonderful little treat right now. It is a video that was taken just yesterday, pitting my two friends Gweepay and Rudy against each other in a battle of wills. Who will be able to force the other to sing for him? The answer shall soon be clear.
Everyone goes into their high school reunions with the goal of making a positive impression on former classmates. (Well, assuming one goes to the reunion at all.) "Positive" means different things to different people. Some demonstrate their generosity, buying drinks for everyone in the house. Some play up their status as a family man (or woman), pulling out pictures of their adorable children. (Children? Wha? We ARE children, for Chrissake!)
Still others go to the reunion with the goal of proving, once and for all, that all that high school awkwardness and insecurity was just a phase. The larval phase, if you will. And in the ten years since we walked across the stage in our ugly green robes, we have been metamorphosing -- growing and maturing and working out the kinks -- in our own little cocoon that I will dub "the early 2000's."
Well, my friends, I was one of those larvas. Larvae. Whatever, it doesn't matter how you spell it, because I am not a larva anymore. I am a freakin' butterfly. I went to my reunion with the sole purpose of proving to myself that I didn't need to surround myself with familiar faces and close friends to have a good time. I cared about proving to myself that even though I score a 95% "Introvert" on the Myers-Briggs scale -- think Milton from Office Space -- I do indeed have a wellspring of charm buried somewhere inside me that I can turn on when I need to. I wanted to shed the shy, socially-awkward Matt of years past, and just let loose and have fun with all the people I didn't get to know well enough ten years ago.
Well, as the banner on GWB's aircraft carrier put it four years ago, "MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!" The difference now, of course, is that I actually did accomplish the mission. The Osama bin Ladens of my past have officially been captured or killed, and I'm claiming the $25 million bounty, baby.
As it turns out, it really isn't very hard to be a Fun Guy at parties. Put together a fine outfit (as you can see from the picture at right, I chose to go as a Jewish Gangster, complete with a golden chai hanging from my neck), smile at everyone you meet, and don't take anything too seriously. (A few drinks and a recent refresher course in the Mystery Method don't hurt either.)
Most importantly,take lots of photos with beautiful women, and post the photos on your Web site along with video showing what a stud you are. ;-) (It helps if you fail to mention that almost every attractive woman was married or engaged.)
Seriously though, I don't know if I have gotten more social in the last ten years, or if everyone has just gotten a lot friendlier -- it's probably a bit of both. All I do know is that all the old cliques and barriers of yesteryear seem to have melted away. As I mentioned to a few people on Saturday night, "This is so much better than high school!"
From an organizational standpoint, it wasn't a very elaborate affair; the reunion committee had taken our $25 entry fee and used it to rent out an atrium and patio, and provide us with some fairly tasty hor dourves. Apparently there was a projector set up showing pictures from high school, but most people ignored it. The highlight of the evening was the cash bar that served very very strong and tasty drinks, and pretty much everyone was tipsy or drunk by the end of the night. Of course, this was the first time everyone had gotten drunk together, because my peers didn't have any parties back in high school.*
The turnout was surprisingly low. There were 252 people in my graduating class, but only around 75 showed up. But from what I could tell, the 25% who were there had done fairly well for themselves. Some financial analysts, a nurse, a dentist, and some bearded legal types whom I quickly gravitated toward. But I'd say the most impressive of all was Jeff K., whose business card says he is a Vice President of Production at a major movie studio out in L.A. I am at once proud, in awe, jealous, and pissed off. It's okay though, because ten years ago I was chosen over him to give the high school graduation speech. So there! Cry about THAT, Jeff! Cry all the way to the bank! To your private vault where you no doubt wile away the hours diving naked into stacks of gold coins! (That is what rich people do, isn't it? All I have to go on is the popular perception of Scrooge McDuck, but I think I've got the picture.)
In the end, though, no one really seemed to care what we "do" for a living. Law, medicine, business, or movie producing, that's just a job. Frankly, I didn't even remember what most peoples' day job turned out to be. You know what stood out? How happy they seemed to be. And, on the whole, the class of 1997 seemed to be fairly content.
A recurring theme in my life is the desire to go back and do things differently, knowing then what I know now. Were I to go back and do high school over again, I'm sure I would have a much better time, and gotten a lot more out of it. But you know what? I could say that about most periods of my life. And I think that's a good thing: It means I'm getting better at This Thing Called Life. And it makes me excited for the future.
A lot of people don't plan to go to their high school reunion, because (as one friend put it in an e-mail recently), "My philosophy is that I already keep in touch with all of the people from high school that I have any desire in seeing." I used to think that too, but it turns out there are a lot of friends from high school who I simply lost track of over the last ten years, and it was great to see them again. Plus, in addition to reconnecting with people, it is great to get to know others who I never really got to know the first time around.
Random girl to me: "You look a lot different -- you look great!"
Guy: "How many companies do you own?" Matt: "I've got partial stakes in seven, I've got --" Jeff: "NOT counting the adult entertainment companies." Matt: "Zero then."
Drunk Girl: "What's your name?" Matt: "Matt [redacted], nice to meet you." Girl: "Maaaatt? For reeeeal?" Matt: "Were you at Groves?" Girl: "Holy God dammit -- you look sooooooo different!" Molly (to the girl, matter-of-factly): "Facial hair and smaller glasses."
Matt to a girl he doesn't know: "I did so many drugs over the last ten years, I don't remember anybody." Guy: "That's bullshit." Matt: "Okay, I've never done any drugs." Guy: "You didn't fool me for a second." Matt: "I wanted to do drugs. I almost did marijuana once. I think I got a contact high." *laughter* Jeff: "I think I almost didn't do marijuana once."
Almost five hours after I arrived, I got into my car and drove home with the biggest smile on my face. My 10-year reunion had been a rousing success. I'm already looking forward to the 20th -- not just because the current committee asked if I want to be involved in planning the 20th, but also because some of the married hotties might be divorced by then. ;-)
*Yes, I know of the rumor that if one THINKS there were no big parties back in high school, it actually means one was not invited to the big parties back in high school. I firmly believe in the falsehood of this rumor. Nothing to see here. Carry on.
From an organizational standpoint, it wasn't a very elaborate affair; the reunion committee had taken our $25 entry fee and used it to rent out an atrium and patio, and provide us with some fairly tasty hor dourves. Apparently there was a projector set up showing pictures from high school, but most people ignored it. The highlight of the evening was the cash bar that served very very strong and tasty drinks, and pretty much everyone was tipsy or drunk by the end of the night. Of course, this was the first time everyone had gotten drunk together, because my peers didn't have any parties back in high school.*
In the end, though, no one really seemed to care what we "do" for a living. Law, medicine, business, or movie producing, that's just a job. Frankly, I didn't even remember what most peoples' day job turned out to be. You know what stood out? How happy they seemed to be. And, on the whole, the class of 1997 seemed to be fairly content.