backyard crowing


Life in the Marin

Sometimes I wonder if the very rich feel obliged to say they're happy, even when they're not.

I suppose they have talented therapists to complain to, though.

I learned that my ex professor went to a private Catholique high school in Kentfield, which is in Marin County, which is one of the richest counties in the US.

The 17th richest county, of 3,007 counties in the US.

It costs a family $80K to put one kid through four years of high school at Ex Professor's private school. That's more than I borrowed in college student loans.

So basically, he's not from the hood, as he wanted his students to believe. He's incredibly well groomed, and an asshole.

He grew up, got a degree from a distinguished university in PoliSci, then moved on to get a film degree, all the while wanting to be a drummer.

Can you imagine that? You are incredibly wealthy. You have a kid. Your kid wants to be a DRUMMER. He actively pursues this.

And then, to be that kid, under all that pressure...

--in this area, in the Marin, parents FREAK THE FUCK OUT if their kids don't want to go to college. Why? Because if they don't get a degree, and in something useful, they'll never survive in this area, it's too expensive. That means moving away from paradise, and your parents.

(My guess is that most of these teens want nothing to do with living with their parents, but the parents are way too attached to their kids. It feels like a helicopter parent sort of place.)

The shops, the salons, the restaurants - they are ALL operated by people who commute here from cheaper places to live.

I like to think Ex Professor really tried to help us, and that he wanted the best for us. I also like to think that maybe he was experiencing some profound loss during that semester, that he was especially ill at ease in his personal life.

Anything to explain away the anger and the class dynamic. Anything to make him not the devil.

What this means is that if I am to really rise above, and "beat" him, my stakes are even higher than I thought.

I know, I know -- it's about my happiness, and challenging myself, not beating him. But the urge is difficult to resist.

Some days are different. Some days I give no fucks about him, or his class, or his life.

7:32 pm - Wednesday, Nov. 15, 2017


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