Like a Glass of Water

So I wrote this for English class and I kinda like it. It's pretty long (Three pages according to Microsoft Word Processor) so you can skip unless you're really interested.


Attempting to define the American Experience is like trying to separate a single drop of water from a glass. Technically it’s possible, but it would require much work and everyone’s answer, or drop, will be different from the next person. Basically, the American Experience is different for everyone who tries to define it. Some definitions may be different from others, but all seem to have sometime in common; happiness.
The Founding Fathers of America wrote in the Declaration of Independence that all men have the unalienable right to Life Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness. As such, the American experience is each person’s personal Pursuit of Happiness.
This observation, however, only brings up another question on what defines the Pursuit of Happiness. This is similar to defining the American Experience in that it’s difficult to define, as each person is different. Happiness can come from money, friendship, love or anything else. Depending on that person’s beliefs, literally anything could count as their Pursuit of Happiness.
Imagine a hypothetical family, four generations of American Experiences each with their own goals and ambitions. There is a young man who struggled with poverty his entire childhood. His American Experience could be to simply live a more comfortable life. As such he works hard, does well in school and finally after a life of great successes and tragic falls lives that comfortable live he dreamt of as a boy. He moves to a calm suburb and lives raises a family. That is the American Experience.
Walker Two
Then his son, who grew up in the calm suburbs may want to achieve something more. He strives to continue the family’s record of success. He sets his eye on a target and goes for it. He looks to his father for advice and inspiration, then puts his plan into motion. He follows his father’s footsteps, does well in school, works hard, but this time he gets lucky. He makes a huge break and suddenly is very wealthy. He builds a large house, and has a family living in the wake of his riches. This is the American Experience
However this third generation, does not share the same aptitude for work as the her ancestors. She has lived in luxury her entire life, why should she go through the same work as her father and grandfather when her status wouldn’t change? As such, she skated through life on her father’s fortune and soon inherited the dynasty. She married into a family of similar status, thereby doubling her fortune. This too, is the American Experience.
The last example ends the bloodline. The fourth generation comes, and this time uses the fortune gathered by the last two generations to help people. This daughter decides to change the world, she devotes her life to both politics and to philanthropy. She travels the world donating money to charities, building houses, wells, and other necessities for life. Here in America, she slowly climbs the political ranks, starting as Mayor of a small town, moving onto Governor, Senator and eventually rising to be President of the United State of America. However, in all the strain of her hectic life style she never bore children, not from medical deficiencies, but of the busy life style. She never had the chance to continue the bloodline, and it dies with her. This, truly is the American Experience.

That isn’t to say, however, that these are the limits of the American Experience. These are simply arbitrary examples, four drops out of the entire glass. These are American Success Stories, but that is by no means the only kind Experience that occur. America is built by so called “failures” as well as success. Americans must feel failure to accomplish the success. Thomas Edison once said “I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work,” (1847-1931). This can be applied to anything, especially the American Experience. If the Articles of Confederation hadn’t “failed” Americans would not have gained the American Constitution, and the country might not have grown to the power that it is today.

If the first generation hadn’t failed a test or two in school, how would he have learned and gotten it better the next time? If the second generation’s original ideas hadn’t failed, maybe he wouldn’t have grown to have the fortune he did. The fourth generation must have lost at least one of her many elections the first time. Everyone learns from their mistakes and they grow from them. This is the American Experience.

Drama

People like to say they have drama.

Your ex-boyfriend's girlfriend being in your math class is not drama.

Your mom taking away your phone is not drama.

Your best friend calling you a bad name is not drama. Sure it sucks, but make up, or get new friends.

The fact that the girl or guy you like doesn't like you back isn't quite drama. Closer maybe, but it's nothing to break down over. I've lived it, and it sucks, but it's not that bad.

Not being able to take driver's ed because your mom has to buy a house because your landlord didn't pay the mortgage. That's drama.

Not being sure if you're getting that house because the prior owner didn't install the correct Radon vents. That's drama.

Not being sure if you're going to college, again due to various monetary problems.

That's drama.

Now, at this point, chances are you're pretty pissed at me. "Who is this guy? He thinks he can define drama!" Who said you had to follow my definition? It's mine, you can have your own, or you can borrow it if you want.

Or don't.

I don't care.

School [Part 2, even though Part One never said it was part one, this was kind of an after though, but I'm still calling it part Two]

In approximately 20 minutes I should be asleep. Then, roughly...oh god math...uh...ok...so it's nine...ten...eleven...twelve...one, two three four five six...Nine and a half hours I'll be awake and getting ready for school...then and hour later I'll be at school.

And I don't like school.

I wish school was more like...day care. You go and hang out with friends, and that's it. Then you come home. Or at the very least I wish there were no such things as bad teachers, all teacher would be Ms St. Onge clones and awesome. Or in some other way be awesome.

But I guess it's ok...I mean I might have decent classes, and teachers...but the only sophomore teacher I know are Ms Nault and Mr Russel who are pretty cool, but that's my sample size. I might have all of really sucky teachers and not have either of the above I mention.

15 minutes now.

I'm debating spending the last 15 minutes writing this. That would be a pretty great way to end the summer right? But I'm not so sure if I'll be able to write enough. It would be like in English last year when Ms Wadliegh would force us to write for the whole class, then I would pass in a page and a half of crap...

WHY AM I DOING LEVEL FOUR THIS YEAR?!

I never even read the Red Badge of Courage. I read an exert from it in 8th grade, hopefully that will suffice for now. I read some of Huck Finn but never finished. I'm so screwed. I did the AP World History stuff though, W00T! That's about it though. I'm starting to regret taking all these fancy classes.

10 minutes.

Maybe I can do this? In a perfect world writing in this blog may have helped my writing a bit...well...helped first person reflections or whatever they're called.

9 minutes.

I'm surprisingly tired for only having woken up 8 hours and 51 minutes ago. I might actually get some sleep tonight. Which is rare for the first day of school.

8 minutes.

This is getting harder, I'm glancing at the clock to see what time it is. I might be able to do this. Or I might give up like I do with everything else. I need to fix that. I need to give up on giving up.

7 minutes.

It's currently 8:53 PM, on September 1, 2010, and Garrett Walker is listening to Dreaming with a Broken Heart by John Mayer. He has one facebook notification. He checks it.

6 minutes.

Emma Cote also commented on Grant Hock's status.

5 minutes.

We're talking about how awful it is to plan things at or after school. I've got practice with my band tomorrow...we might actually get stuff done.

4 minutes.

My heart is beating really fast, I think I'm subconsciously forcing it to. I spelled subconsciously wrong, i did again. I'll fix that later. Or I'll forget. Probably the latter.

3 minutes.

I'm running out of stuff to write, but the good thing about this is that I can write about not knowing what to write about. It's genius. My song is over.

2 minutes.

Do You Remember by Jack Johnson comes on. The song is 2 minute sand 14 seconds long, I might not be able to finish listening to it. I remember that need to ask my sister if my planned out fit for tomorrow works.

8:59.

I check for spelling errors. I didn't forget to fix the spelling.

9:00.

Good night, Summer.

More Blogs from North Andover

So I noticed a while ago that my blogs are posted in backwards order, so this post is before the last one i wrote. I also like to trail off posts with what i think about at the end, and then I go post about that thought. So basically, every few posts is like a prequel to the next one in the list. It's like Star Wars, only slightly less awesome.

I want a lightsaber.

I think everyone does, it's basically the most epic thing ever made. Even though George Lucas isn't the first writer (or whatever you want to call him) to have a "laser sword" he probably did the best job, to the point where if you ever see a laser sword in anything you almost instinctively call it a lightsaber, even if officially it's just a laser sword or beam sword or whatever, (I'm looking at you Super Smash Brothers).

Sorry for the geek out, it happens.

I completely forget where I was going with this. I need to get that medicine that increases memory...but i don't know what it's called.

Oh! I'm moving. That's not what I was starting off with, but it's going to be what I'm talking about now. I'm moving to Mammoth Rode, which is in the Central District, but I'm not really happy. I don't want to move, I'm happy where I am, and if I'm going to move I wanted a big change. I wanted to go to Pinkerton. But I should be happy! We own this fairly large house (in comparison to the one we're renting now)! And I get to stay with my friends! And it's not really that far away from my friend's houses, so I should be super excited! WHY AREN'T I? Pinkerton is supposed to be a really nice school...like...really nice. But I guess I've never been there, and I'm basing this off other peoples opinions. I wanted to take a tour, but supposedly I can't do that unless it's guaranteed that I'll go there...I don't know. I've always wanted to go to one of those super nice schools, you know one of those ones that can afford paper clips. Those exist right?

I'd better go to a nice college. OH WAIT! My sister is eating all of our money. And we're about to buy a house. YAY FOR COMMUNITY COLLEGE!

I guess I'm done whining now.

Central in five days.

whoopie...

School

I like friends.

I like hanging out with friends.

I like school...to a point.

But once that new year luster wears off school is just school.

And school sucks.

But somehow I found a way to be excited for school. I'm not sure why. Maybe I just want to be a sophomore? Maybe I can't wait to see my classes? Maybe I just want to actually get out and do stuff? Maybe it's all of them?

Also, you're not the next grade yet, you haven't taken a class in that grade. Leaving one grade doesn't make you the next one, especially turning into a freshman. If you've only been in the high school once, you're not a freshman. So I'm not a sophomore, you're not a freshman, and you, yeah you, you're not a junior.

Let's not end on a negative. I haven't read much of the books I'm supposed to have read, I may finish Huck Finn, then wing it for Red Badge of Courage. That or I'll hope we're not tested on it until second quarter, like we were last year, which will give me time to finish.

That's not very positive either. This also isn't a very deep blog entry. I'm just going to give up now.

My dad finally got internet.

I bring you the first blog written at my dad's house. It's pretty awesome. Too bad summer's over, and I'm only going to be here for every other weekend... and my dad always tells me not to procrastinate.

I really hate my lack of ability to remember things. There's probably a word for it, but I forget. I mean, I could have made this really long and deeps and about the lessons of procrastination, but really all I've got is the intense screwed I am when school starts...oh god...school...

Nothing is Permanent

Everything ends eventually.

This was my thought while I sat in the back of a stranger's car while the real estate agent drove us home from looking at houses quite a ways away from the Central district.

So in my head I made a list.

Jobs: My mother and the real estate agent were talking about how their jobs had changed, and if the change was permanent. This sparked the thought.

School: All day I had been battling the constant thought of the fact that I'll be leaving Central soon, I then thought about how I couldn't stay there permanently any way. Eventually we would graduate, eventually we would go off to college, eventually we would move apart. Maybe sooner is better than later.

Life: My thoughts then moved onto to less immediate things. The first thing that came to mind as an example of something that just takes a while to end (usually) is life. The average life expectancy in the US is 78(.4, according to Google Public Data) which, while a long time, it far from permanent. My dog, Josie, who we've had since I was 4, is on her last leg. She's old, and can barely traverse the stairs to go out. I literally have little to no memories of a time before her, and can't imagine a time without her.

The World: Statistically, scientifically, and theoretically, eventually some cataclysmic event probably will happen to destroy or at least damage the world. Maybe the Earth as a planet will still be around in some form, but life on Earth may well stop one day. And even though this will probably span billions upon billions of years, eventually it will happen.

So there we are. Thrown on a slab and shown our mortality.

I like House.

"Dr. Wilson: Do you think he was dead? Do you think those experiences were real?
Dr. House: Define real. They were real experiences. What they meant... Personaly, I choose to believe that the white light people sometimes see, visions, this patient saw. They're all just chemical reactions that take place when the brain shuts down.
Dr. Foreman: You choose to believe that?
Dr. House: There's no conclusive science. My choice has no practical relevance to my life, I choose the outcome I find more comforting.
Dr. Cameron: You find it more comforting to believe that this is it?
Dr. House: I find it more comforting to believe that this isn't simply a test." (Wikiquote.org)

I like that too.

It's very, "You only live once,"

Or in a more Garrett Michael Garebear Walker style quote, "Life is a single shot pistol. Don't miss." Even though I made up, I feel it was necessary to put in quotation.

So, in what may be the ultimate in irony, this post has to come to a close. I hope I haven't driven any one to suicide, but it felt it needed to be shared. That's what a blog is for.

While writing the part about Josie, I came the closest to crying I have in years.