My parents’ conversation overheard while watching the US Open:Mum: “Why doesn’t he wipe the sweat off?”
Dad: “How should I know?”
Mum: “You know everything.”
Dad: “I’m not telling you.”
What struck me was that this was pretty much a carbon copy of many petty arguments I have with my wife – she asks a stupid question, I reply in a dismissive manner, she retorts with a response that, though clever, indicates that she never really took the question seriously in the first place, I reply with a tender yet defiant remark.
I am 37 and I have definitely become my parents. I see it as a kind of step in evolution, where one repeats the past, in the hope that one day they can finally perfect it and move forward.
3 comments:
Made me think of Friedrich Nietzsche's "eternal recurrence"
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eternal_return
Nietzsche always got me fired up - something not unlike girls and art. Transfixing, yet I never really got a handle on it.
I never got a handle on him either. I reread him every few years, dip in, and enjoye it. Each time i feel like I can focus on him better... but he is still a bit blurry. I'm starting to assume that he intended it that way.
The super man will make his own clarity I guess :-)
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