
Watched both Fyre Festival documentaries last night.
I’m sure not all Millennials are as entitled, delusional and self-involved as the crowd orbiting the Fyre Festival, but man, those Millennials were obnoxious: I was kinda rooting for them to have an even more awful time there than they had there.
Influencers.
Brand Ambassadors.
They were all little lemmings just begging to be led off a cliff.
Tiny fangless rodents desperately searching for a Pied Piper.
I guess Instagram—which I like a lot, by the way—has evolved into a kind of ultimate “Perky Pat” alternate reality (thank you, Phil K. Dick!), which is far more involving than anything their real lives have to offer.
I see some of that at work in my youngest son whose surface is all effortless charm and bravado but who, when I apply Neighbor Ed’s dictum—“I look at what they do”—is obviously deeply depressed.
Sadly, there’s absolutely nothing I can do for RTT.
I mean, I tried to pay for driving lessons, I tried to buy him a car, I tried to interest him in financial investing—
He was simply not interested.
I love him very much, but I don’t have the same relationship with him that I have with his older brother. I can say just about anything to his older brother, and while his older brother gets very pissed off at me from time to time, still, I know he understands that I have his best interests at heart.
I fear with RTT, I will always be the Mommy Loch Ness Monster, rising up from time to time from the bottomless depths of childhood hopes and fears to gnash my teeth and paralyze him with my gimlet eye. So, I have to weigh my words carefully lest they wreak irreparable psychic damage.
The relationship he has with his father is just deeply creepy. Codependence at its most awful.
I just don’t understand it at all.
I got out from under parental influences as soon as I possibly could. At age 16!
I guess RTT just doesn’t want to be independent. Oh, he pays mouth service to independence, but at heart, he wants to be infantilized.