Missing Persons IV
This was supposed to be high school. But I don't really feel like it. It's too easy. And I talk about high school too readily. The people I'd refer to here are people I still talk about, sometimes. And there's so much, I don't know what to write. Chronologically, the next story is depressing, too. So I'm going to drop the chronology. And high school.
As mentioned just below, I was in Chicago last summer. I was interning with a public TV station. The other full-time intern in my department was a fellow named Josh Ostergard (I write his full name on the chance that he does an ego search, because I lost his e-mail. Hehehe). He was an anthropology grad student, which ought to translate as "fucked up bizarre." Since we were fairly young there, we hung out (don't trust anyone over 30, after all). He was filled with all sorts of quirks. The main one I think of, though, is that he didn't do sarcasm. If he said he liked something, then he liked it. If he found something attractive, he liked it. He provided an example to me in relation to the Anthony Hopkins/Chris Rock movie that came out last summer. He said he saw an ad for it, and thought "that sounds good." And then, he said, he realized he meant it.
I think of Josh when people complain about me not liking things, or being too sarcastic. They might have a point. OK, they're right. I think, what if I were like him? What if I were just . . . literal. I don't know what I'd say. I don't know if I could say anything. Maybe one day, I'll try it. I have irony so deeply woven into my linguistic habits, though, that I'm not sure I can do it and still be me. I'd have to wear a sign in front my eyes that says "Mean What You Say Today." On the other hand, I'm pretty sure that I annoy the hell out of people I care about, and who care about me, by my inability to be genuine.
Maybe I'll just start being non-sarcastic at some point. Maybe now. And see how it goes.