I really don't like talking on the phone. It's an invention I think we have become too reliant on that has too large a place in our society only because we let it. I can be a gadget freak but my phone is one of the more basic models you can get. The purpose of a phone is to convey messages and make plans, not to have long drawn out conversations that take hours. If I'm going to do that I would rather go see the person and speak to them. Too often people want to call and have long conversations about nothing in particular, just to kill time. I do all I can to avoid this and try to hang up as soon as I can without appearing like a complete lout. Though, I must add, I have been guilty of this as well.

On this site I have spent a little time talking about my family. We're not as close so the space I've accorded to them is about equal to their place in my life. This is unfortunate in some ways, though I've never had a desire to have a close knit family. I think my brothers have similar feelings about that. We all live in three different parts of the county. My father lives hundreds of miles from each of us. My mom is not alive.

One odd things about my brothers and I- we are all very different people. We all look different with different eye and hair colors and we have chosen our lives differently. Our tastes run the gamut from hippie jam bands to easy listening to metal and punk. Our goals are all different as well.

This, as you can imagine, has been difficult for my father. While he cared for all of us, he has had difficulty in relating to all of us. My father made a lot of mistakes in raising three children while he also excelled in many areas. I feel lucky to have been raised the way I was while I also look at my childhood with anger. I have (had?) a lot of animosity towards my father for the many mistakes he made, which I consider unforgettable.

I touched upon this with my brother while speaking with him on another subject. While I love my brother, we are different and though we get along we don't often speak on the phone for more than ten or fifteen minutes. This conversation lasted well over an hour. During it I realized how little my own family knows about me and how much I've been keeping from them.

>>I'm deleting what I wrote previously to change what I've said. I've thought about the conversation with my brother a lot in the past few days. It's been on my mind more than I should.

During our talk my brother wanted to know what I've been doing these past few years and why it seems I'm not doing anything. When I told him he seemed shocked. Why didn't I tell him in the first place?

He didn't believe anything I said about my father and chose to believe only what he wanted. He seems shocked that he, the only son who was allowed to go to school away from home without his parents constantly on his back, was the most successful and he believes me and my oldest brother have no concern for anything in our lives. He still sees me as the angst ridden thirteen year old that caused the most problems. He doesn't realize that two decades later I may have changed just a bit and that really pisses me off. To him I am still that teenager. My friends are all drug users and burnouts and nothing I tell him he believes.

Fuck him. I didn't get upset when he locked himself away in suburbia with a bitchy wife to have three kids and become a younger version of my dad. He's become a closed minded asshole that believes everyone that lives differently than he is is wasting their life.

We have enough children in the world. We have enough yuppies with SUVs and enough self righteous assholes. We don't need any more.