A day that changed my life
What scared me most was, I wouldn't be able to make my dream of being an Ambulance Paramedic become reality.
So this year, in the Plim Plaza window, I decided I would do just that. The older kids at school wore all black that week. This year was different. Kenny went off and rode the big ones while I perched in that window, watching people on the boardwalk stroll past the man sculpting the savior.
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These gatherings were stressful affairs in which I rarely spoke, dodged games of spin the bottle, and watched Faces of Death VHS tapes that kept me awake for weeks. Still, despite my failings at middle school dances and being the son of man who hurled a fist at a man of the Lord, I remained hopeful as I sat in the window that at some point I would get to second base and go to heaven. Also consider that I grew up in a rural area of this in-between state, in a house on a dirt road about a mile back in the woods. As the sun set on these summer nights in Ocean City, the park sounded like the scene of a mass duck slaughter, but to me it still brings back the most pleasant memories. Hear me out: I was born in , squarely in the middle of the four-year period between and , putting me at the center of a weird group of about 20 million Americans lost between Generation X and the almighty millennials. Oh, no, what are they waving at? So I sat in that window, Sharon Stone inside and Sand Jesus outside, pondering sex and the afterlife. Here, in a glass case, is a giant, mounted tiger shark. Hours passed. But being a part of them somehow felt like the key to a better future. Oh, no! I turned to walk down the boardwalk, trying to get as far away from that window as possible. For some reason I remember this as the first moment in my life when I gave any serious thought to the idea of death.
When people are asked to analyse their life. Be cool, I told myself. They seemed to last for an eternity. Whenever a young waitress approached the table, Dad did his best to embarrass me and Kenny.
I once looked at my life in a very negative way, but now I look at my life with the opposite view. The Plim Plaza was an OK hotel, I suppose, if not for a slow elevator, small rooms, a lack of private balconies, and the fact that my father kept calling it a dump.
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