I returned on Wednesday from a visit abroad, about which more later. The main thing I have to report is that during my visit I regained hope for the young.
One might be forgiven for questioning my use here of the reiterative prefix, given that I have heretofore tended to display a distinct lack of ever having evinced any hope whatsoever for the young, but let’s put it down to jet lag for now and leave it at that.
One morning during my trip I had a conversation with a young person sixteen years of age about some highly traumatic events from his past and the emotionally fraught present repercussions thereof. The arc of our discussion had touched down, and we’d sat in solemn if friendly silence for some moments. Then:
YOUNG PERSON: Is C-3PO gay?
FAUSTUS: Yes.
YOUNG PERSON: …
FAUSTUS: Is R2-D2?
YOUNG PERSON (derisively): R2-D2 isn’t gay. R2-D2 can’t even talk.
FAUSTUS: …
YOUNG PERSON: …
FAUSTUS: …
YOUNG PERSON: …
FAUSTUS: What about Chewbacca?
YOUNG PERSON: Complete fruit.
That second paragraph? Yeah, that one, right there. That is why I love this blog, all bundled up into one little sentence.
It’s also why this blog loves you.
SOOOOOO glad you are back. Missed you much and laughed out loud at this one. –Roxzana
Roxzana, I’m glad I’m back too.
Can’t wait to hear more about hope for the youths! Rest and recuperate, ’cause I think everybody who reads you is waiting with baited breath for a teen-sleepover blow-by-blow re: your trip.
Every time I come check for a new post, and read this post again, I wonder if you and E.S. are adopting a kid from abroad, and that’s what this is about.
About which more later? How much later I wonder?
All best thoughts,
G
What Diz said.