by Shelt Garner
I’ve always been something of a kook. I have never known what I was supposed to do. Or, using the metrics of, say, a New York Times reporter, I’m nothing more than an Internet crank.
The few times I’ve interacted with New York Times people, I’ve had no complaints. Though, I have to admit that Maggie Haberman was randomly mean to me on Twitter when I accused her of doing “access journalism.”
I have to admit to myself that if you combine my age with my general “delusional jerk with a good heart” personality that, well, “normal” people are going to dismiss me. And, really, there’s probably nothing I can do at this point to fix the problem.
I’ve been too conspicuous in various ways on the Internet in my numerous flights of fancy since I left South Korea. There’s no going back. I’m just a middle aged weirdo at this point.
Even if something were to change my lot in life, it would be nothing more than a recontextualizing of my weirdo life. I would be praised to the extent that successful people are respected for….being successful.
It’s just taken me too long to get to the point where I know who I am and have the wherewithal to do anything about it. In other words, I could save the sweet baby Jesus out of the Hudson River and within 24 hours I would be just another Ken Bone.
My life doesn’t fit the media narrative, for better or worse.
Maybe some of this is me thinking about how the rules of life change as you go older and nobody tells you? It sucks. It really sucks.
But you have to have hope. If you don’t have hope, spring in your step and a mischievous glint in your eye no matter what, then, really, what do you have?