Here we are, already six days past our human deadline, and I'm having trouble letting go of zombies and Mayans, although the one is just a currently-more-entertaining-but-arguably-less-interesting-than-vampires social commentary and the other is a unit I've already taught and won't look at again until November 2013, if then.
Good grief, if such a beast there be. I kind of miss the vampires. They're queerer than the zombies.
As I have spent the day scouring the local arts associations and Hallmark stores and trolling the internets for blog fodder, I have also downloaded my favorite ten-year-old's (formerly?) favorite book, I am Number Four, so I can give it a read really quick before New Year's.
Flashback to Halloween weekend, 2012 (shameless self-hyperlink warning), when I was composing my post entitled "Revisiting." Over the course of a few days, the 10-year-old watched the movie version of the book that he'd already read, on a loop, about 17 times. I am happy to say that sometime during that weekend, I too somehow got to see the film in its entirety. I never watched it start-to-finish, but I did see all parts of it in a nonlinear fashion.
My Kindle tells me I'm 15% done. As I read, I can find many things within the story that are relatable to me because they are, or were, high school archetypes: the letterman-jacket clothed bully, the nerdy kid, the pretty girl...and I wonder what it is that the ten-year-old finds relatable about I am Number Four. What do the intervening 25 years of existence add to, or take away from, the experience of the story? I would love to discuss this with him, but I suspect that he will have moved on to a new favorite story when I see him here in a few days.
Will I be able, at a vantage that perches happily just five years away from my retirement to Springdale, UT or Barcelona or Panajachel or really ANYWHERE except San Bernadino...be able to convince the now-10-then-35-year-old to reread this piece and tell me what he gets from it? I'll probably be too busy skiing or surfing or kayaking (after an offering to San Simon) that I will totally forget to bring it up.
Let us be happy that such a far-out future does indeed exist.
As you can see, the Memoir of Narrow Escape is going to be a useless stream-of-consciousness raving until such time as I can sit down over tapas with Krista, whose Wannabe, I am happy to announce, is far more successful than Single...Apocalypse was, and figure out a plan, a path, a direction. I do love wordle, by the way, good job Krista! I know the head is from a different type of word art software. Perhaps my next post, if indeed the signals will let me compose one from Weidman, will be a Wordle of Resolutions.
Until then, may you look quizzically at the ten year olds in your own life and wonder what the heck is swimming around inside those heads of theirs.
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