XXXII: 1999 / Ideas and Ideals
A thought occurred to me while sitting here at the trailer that I haven't fully come to grips with.
We bought our first trailer, when I was a kid, in 1990 when I was 3. We came up every summer -- most weekends, some whole weeks -- for my entire childhood, all through the 90's. I don't know when I stopped coming regularly but it was probably around 2003. I'm basing this on the fact that I have memory of hearing Avril Lavigne (debut single 2002) in the car on the way up here, and in the last years bringing my tape recorded copy of London Calling which I would have been super into in 2003. But I was probably a lot spottier on when I would come up back then, probably just on my dad's weekend (every other weekend.)
So let's say the trailer era was from 1990 to 2002, about 3-15. Twelve years. Dad kept coming a few years more, when Deb's sibling had a trailer here, and then his friends sold theirs so he sold his too.
It's now 2026. I think I've visited this place every year since about 2015. That's eleven years. Almost the same length of time, and next year will make it a tie. Now obviously we're only up for a weekend or a week at a time, not living my entire summer here, but humbling when you think about how the same span of time hits differently when you're an adult. Calendar pages keep ripping off faster and faster.
It never quite stopped feeling like a trip to the past. Probably because I want it to. I want a little piece of that 1999-2000-ness. Childhood, innocence, freedom from responsibility. Neverending summer. Walking around all day, sitting at the rec hall, walking around some more at night. That tentative who-likes-who-ness, that Carly Fortune stuff.
It's always 1999. That one sticks out in my mind because I just remember it. I was always either here or with my cousin at his house or we would come back to mine. Me toting a plastic bag of clothes and barely ever changing, including to sleep. Change for the pop machine jingling in my little cargo shorts pocket. Oh, twelve. That was 99 and 2000 a bit as well. Writing and drawing comics, dreaming of making it big. Wrestling games.
I don't know where I'm going with any of this. I'm just walking around the lake in circles.
I told Mel last night that this was one of my favourite trips to the trailer ever and she was surprised. I was surprised too but that's kind of how I'm feeling. I'm feeling startled by how quick it's going and how I don't want it to. Usually I'm pretty antsy to get home but I'm feeling good, relaxed and present. So I'm able to enjoy it more.
Tuesday I had to go into town for a whole bunch of supplies, as was the plan, but I didn't realize we were low on toilet paper. So I had to go back the next day. Kind of a drag, not to mention confusing how you don't leave a pack of toilet paper kicking around. I'm not going to get too upset about it since my aunts are kind enough to lend us the trailer and all, but that's a headscratcher.
So, you know, fun in the sun. It's been nice but not that blazingly hot "jump in the pool" weather you're always craving. I feel like we never quite get it no matter when we come up, and July is our best bet. Yesterday we walked Hank around and went to the swimming hole. I didn't go in, I stayed on the goose poop-filled beach with Hank while Mel took a dip. Then we had lunch and she napped, and afterward we went to the pool. But by then it was about 6 and the sun was disappearing behind the trees and it was real cold when we got out. So today we plan to go earlier. I think it's going to be the warmest today so that's good.
Done a lot of reading. We played some Farkle, which was a very tense game as Mel managed to rush past me and cross the threshold of 10,000 first, but then I get a chance to beat her and managed to do it with some amazing rolls.
I worry, I worry. I've applied for some jobs but they don't seem to be biting. I know I'm not the type of guy who's putting out hundreds of resumes, I really have to be able to see myself doing the particular job before I apply. It has to be either remote or very local, and no AI. That really hampers my ability to apply for things. I feel sick with guilt about it. Like I'll never be anything. Mel keeps saying "we're all right" for money -- it doesn't necessarily feel that way to me, but sure. And there's Bastian. Mel really wants to keep him -- her heart melts every time she gets an update from the sitter -- but having two dogs who don't necessarily get along is really fraying me.
Well, I think I'll pull myself out of this nosedive and end it here.
Keep on rockin'
-Scotto
