As developments go, for me, it's been a long, painful twisted time, and quite frankly, this is a section of my life I cannot wait to leave in the books. Does anyone see fit to actually help me do so? Doesn't really seem like it. I saw on the news this morning that men usually die younger than women, for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is the fact that many have been trained from the time we're boys to suck it up and not grouse about it. I guess it's not that I never really had that luxury, but in the course of my development, I was raised by one woman, perhaps leading me to be a bit more "in touch" with myself, but none the less, I was so pi*sed off at my whole situation, and at not really having the opportunity to express myself, that I was shut down for a long time. I don't like being there, and I know people can't really understand me very well when I am. The angry in me wants to tell everyone to just deal with it; I didn't bring this whole state of affairs on myself, why should I be the one to pay so friggin' dearly?! One of my fellow teachers in Korea one time commented that the desk in my classroom was oddly "feminine" in a way, and maybe he was right, sort of. I did have a lot of pictures, and it was relatively organized, compared to some of the ones of my male compatriots. I am, undoubtedly, a child of my upbringing, whether I like it or not. I didn't have a father who was pressuring me to play football, or baseball; on the contrary, dad was wondering what my "plan" in life was. I had no idea what he was talking about, mainly because I didn't see anything, anywhere around me, I really wanted to emulate. Certainly not him, working 12-and-14 hour days, six days a week, if not more. Not mom, who was essentially self-absorbed to the large exclusion of her three chief responsibilities, namely me, my brother and my sister. So, what am I left with? A fairly strong sense of wanting to be in touch with my own children, which I can't be, at least as much as I'd like, and the idea that, perhaps, I'm not as "male" as I might be. Which, by extension, makes me bristle when people attempt to generalize about me by virtue of the fact that I am male; I'm as much a product of my upbringing as anyone else in this world. I'm not crazy about it, I don't pretend to understand it completely, but largely, that whole idea of trying to be something I'm not just eats at me. I would say I'm done with it, but at this point, I've got way too many other people involved with my life to ever break out of expectations entirely. But I'll get there.
On almost as sad a note, the old Tiger Stadium, which, while it stood, was one of the oldest stadiums in all of major league baseball, finally succumbed to the wrecking ball starting yesterday. It's not as though it held great fond memories for me personally, not in the way that Frango Mints, a few good fishing trips, and my dad's old BMW 733i did, but that which has stood the test of time should not be forced to succumb to "progress." Inevitably, though, unless we're talking about The Sphinx or Stonehenge, it usually does. Maybe that enters into my sensibilities, too.

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