I'm in Arizona for Thanksgiving and (hopefully) the birth of my nephew, Parker. My sister isn't due until next week but we are hoping that he will come in time for the holiday. Earlier, she was practically begging for Castor Oil, though Mom says it's not a good idea. I think it's better to wait and let nature take it's course.
My brother and I had a great "What's it all about?" conversation tonight. He lost the use of his legs in a car accident in 1997, he was twenty four. We snuck out after my parents went to bed, I needed a cigarette real bad. Out on the porch, I asked what he wanted for Christmas this year. "A reason to live," was his reply.
"A raisin?" I asked, relating all too well to what I had actually heard him say. He explained that he had recently discovered that money was an illusion and couldn't seem to find meaning in anything. He was always an all or nothing kind of guy and because of that I formulated this little bit of wisdom:
Meaning is in everything and everything is meaningless.
That meaning, of course, it's all in how you look at it. I insisted that the meaning of life was tacos. He protested that tacos were not a reason to get up in the morning. I needed something more breakfast-y. What about "the anticipation of tacos"? He said that when he looks into his heart, there is nothing there. Dreams have all been fulfilled (which I don't believe) and it's all just empty. He asked about cosmic fuck ups and do I think that it's possible for the universe to make mistakes. "No," I replied. "We get what we ask for and someone, somewhere must have prayed for a sequel to Deuce Bigalow, even if it was only Rob Schneider. The universe does not make mistakes, we do."
I will get him some raisins for Christmas, but the reasons...he will have to find those on his own.
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