Most people - well, I shouldn't say most, because (A) I don't know most people, and (B) saying "most" would be generalizing, and that's generally thought of as a naughty thing.
Let's say some people enjoy learning things. I guess I would like to think that most people are of this persuasion, but I'm probably deluding myself. Anyway, to these "some," anything can be turned into a learning situation. Valuable lessons can be derived from the worst of situations, like being stranded in Vidor wearing a Public Enemy shirt or having a rave girl vomit on you as she's groovin' to techno. I am one of those "Let's turn this into a learning experience" people.
Last week off from school was chock full of helpful hints. After getting over the extreme feeling of guilt at having to skip my philosophy class because it was at UH-Downtown and therefore not part of Central's Spring Break, I went to Galveston for the day. There began my nifty little learning experiences.
While near the beach (I don't go in the water), I observed a woman slapping her kid around because he was tired and chilly and therefore whining. Her husband, obviously a real man, told the boy that if he "didn't cut that s**t out, he wouldn't have an ass to ride home on." The child was not more than 4 years old. Lesson No. 1: Don't hold your tongue when you catch someone in the act of bad parenting.
My main purpose of the trip was to load up on summer clothing at Colonel Bubbie's and to find a non-leather replacement for my knapsack. Both missions accomplished, my companion requested a root-beer float and so emerged Lesson No. 2: Ice-cream shops are no fun for vegans. Being in places like that, such as steakhouses, barbecues, etc. really sobers one up to the sad truth that our culture is insanely dependent on using animals and their products.
This depressing realization came up again on Wednesday. Lesson No. 3: Don't expect close friends and family to be keen on your example of better living. My father and stepmother were nice enough to take me to a vegan restaurant for my birthday. The dishes were similar to Chinese food. I think they would rather that I found God and ate flesh. These seemingly reasonable people in my family turned their noses up and acted as if the place was run by aliens.
Which brings me to Lesson No. 4: If you are brainless enough to be deeply involved in a cult, please follow the leader and kill yourself now. Make room for those of us who take life a little less seriously. I will admit that when I first heard the reports of Heaven's Gate, I mistakenly thought the comet was called Hale-Bob. Then I realized that the Church of The SubGenius is far to immersed in Slack to pull a stunt like the purple triangle freaks ... although the castration bit was a great idea.
Later on in the week, I visited the Museum of Fine Arts. The Splendors of Egypt exhibit was boss! Lesson No. 5: Egyptians were cool, Romans were not. Well, they did have those mohawk helmets. ...
Saturday was spent casino-hopping in Louisiana (another birthday excursion and something very unlike me). But hey, it was a learning experience. Lesson No. 6: Quit while you're even, much less ahead. Most of the time I watched as obviously not-so-well-off but really intoxicated folks kept at the slots for hours waiting for the magic moment. At least with blackjack you have some control over the game. My companion won a whopping $39 and walked away so as not to get sucked back into the game of chance and lose it again.
Last, but not least, lucky Lesson No. 7: Don't play near train tracks. You might get smushed.
The events of last week, although not too terribly exciting, proved to be mildly thought-provoking to say the least. Hey, if I can do it, you can do it. Make every experience, crappy or not, one to live and grow with. I'm getting nauseated, so I'm going.
Gilmore is a positive, perky senior (when on medication).