Feb. 4, 2007 – The Blank Generation

I’m 30 years old. By this time, according to past generations, I should be married and have at least two kids. I should also have a job that I can at least tolerate for the next 20-35 years of my life.

But things have changed for us young Americans. Those goals were my grandparents’. Hell, even my parents had completely different lives. Their generation is still a little bit lost. They all got married young, had kids, got divorced and are just now working on their second and third marriages. They tolerate their jobs, but less and less every year. Some of them are trying to go back to college to better themselves. Others are just rebelling in quiet ways.

So, where does that leave my generation? We have no real role models. We’re growing up slower than anyone else ever has. I know people who are nearly 40 and they can’t figure out what to do with their lives.

I don’t even know what generation I’m supposed to be in. Generation X is a little bit older than me and remembers when they first heard INXS’ “Don’t Change” on the radio. As much as I love INXS, I had to discover that one when I started buying up their back catalog. And Gen Y is far too young for me to be a part of. They think that Limp Bizkit was a pretty good idea. So, does that make me Gen X ½? Some kind of X-Men prequel?

A few months ago, I found out that I would have to leave my comfortable little house. I had lived there for about three years, so I was pretty settled in. Well, more settled than I have been anywhere since I moved out of my family’s home. It was my home. It was a place that I could run to when things got too weird, or not weird enough. I loved my house.

Due to some strange circumstances that I won’t go into here, I was getting a killer deal on the rent. It’s a three bedroom house and I was paying…well…let’s just say WELL below market value. So the landlord, who was being incredibly nice to me, decided that it was time that he got some real money out of the place.

What was I going to do? I had no clue where I wanted to live! I looked and looked, but couldn’t find anything that I could call home. Especially not with washer/dryer connections within the REAL city limits. (Those would be Anderson to William Cannon, in case you don’t know where Austin truly stops.)

I was getting so frustrated that I actually thought about leaving my hometown, a town that I have loved since birth. Sure, this town hasn’t really done much for me (except given me a lot of really good friends…which is quite a lot, actually), but I love Austin and I have never felt like leaving more.

But that feeling passed as quickly as it came to me. I can’t leave. If I do, I feel like I would have been beaten by the system. Damn the Man! I’m stayin’!

But I still needed something to shake me out of my stupor. You see, I’m stuck in a job that I really, really don’t like. Oh, it’s an easy enough job, but it doesn’t really do anything. All I do is make it slightly easier for other people to do their jobs. And most of their jobs don’t really mean anything, either. These people have all resigned themselves to jobs that they’re not truly into.

Yes, something has to change.

At this point in my life, I have no responsibilities. No rent. No family. No girlfriend. Only a couple of credit card companies to depend on me. (And possibly a dentist after my insurance company opts to NOT pay for all of a crown that I need to get. Thanks for that one, oh Gods of Dentistry.) So it’s the perfect time for a major shakedown.

That’s when the thought hit me: it’s time to leave…but only for a while. A damn good long while, but I do plan on coming back. Eventually.

Some say that hitting the open road is an escape. Some say it’s running away. Some say it’s the most awesome thing that a human being can do.

I say it’s a time to be alone with my thoughts for a while. Figure out who I really am and what this country is all about.

I say it’s also a great time to listen to some music at top volume while screaming the lyrics to the wind.

My plan, in case you haven’t figured it out, is to tour This Great Country of Ours. I’ve seen a bit of it before. A buddy of mine and I are old hands at taking road trips out west and I drive to Telluride every year with another buddy for the film festival. I’ve also driven to New York once (been there twice) and checked out the Pacific Northwest for a very brief stint during a high school band trip. But there’s so much out there that I haven’t seen. I’ve never seen Devil’s Tower at sunset. I’ve never seen Mount Rushmore with Cary Grant hanging out of Washington’s nose like so much patriotic snot. I’ve never seen Ol’ Faithful spurting up into the stratosphere.

I’ve also never really seen myself. I’ve seen myself through my friends’ eyes. And, while I like that guy, I’ve always felt that maybe there’s someone else underneath that skin. Someone who has been trying to get out, but he hasn’t had the strength. Maybe, by getting away from everything I can find that guy and figure out who the hell he is.

Along the way I’ll be stopping by to visit some old friends in their new natural habitats. I’ll stop by some places that I’ve seen before just to get a sense of what those places are really like. But, mostly I’ll be with myself. The real me.

Now, I don’t have any “romantic” notions that this trip will change everything for me. When I get back I’ll probably still have the same job. I’ll still be single. I’ll still be Mark.

But hopefully I will have changed enough to actually make some changes for myself. Maybe I’ll finally take that final leap and get a new job that I actually like. Maybe I’ll ask that girl out who I never thought I had a chance with. Or maybe I’ll just be happier with what I have.

Before anything starts, I would like to thank all of my friends and family for their support over the last 30 years. It’s gotten me to where I am today and it will get me to where I’m going on this trip and the even longer journey of life.

Thanks, kids. Now it’s time for me to motorvate.