I've had a few conversations this morning- some via Twitter, some on the phone and others via e-mail. Some have been constructive and positive (thanks for those), some have been laced with name-calling and curse words. Neato.
I started this site with two of my pals six years ago so we would have a place to vent about Purdue sports instead of sending out long e-mail threads on Monday mornings. It's been a pretty therapeutic part of my life as I tend to get too angry when Purdue loses...so blowing off steam has helped me to fester for less time. But, the last few months, not just the last few hours, haven't been that way.
Comments on Twitter and on the site alike have shown me some things from fellow Purdue fans that have made this site feel more like a just a laborious activity than a labor of love. It's really my naiveté that's the problem- I've always thought of Purdue fans as a cut above the rest of the world...but it turns out (SHOCKER!) that a school of 40K+ has quite a few knuckleheads and dumbasses leaving her doors each year.
But that's not why I'm writing today. I'm writing because I'm a very flawed person...and make a ton of mistakes in my daily life. Most of them can easily be looked past and gotten over. I apologize to my kids and wife when screw up...and they're a forgiving group, thankfully, so life marches on as time does...even with my shortcomings. But some people don't forgive or forget quite as easily.
Earlier today, Boiledsports, which has really been Jandboilerdowd.com for the last six years, published something that isn't in line with the way we think and do things. We removed it, but the record of the article will live on via classy folks at Northwestern sites and elsewhere. In other words, the digital copy is out there, and it will be...forever. I haven't talked to Nikki about her post. I don't know if she regrets putting it up...and don't really care either way. She's entitled to her opinion...and it's really not
But, having a pervasive internet and constant documentation of life has taken away much of the wiggle room that everyday life used to have built in. Sure, much of this is by the choice of the person making the mistake...but perspective changes with time and experience...but internet mistakes are forever.
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| Color me Boilerdowd |
When I was in high school and college, my fashion choices were questionable. I wore colored jeans and Nike Deion Sanders shoes...at the same time. I once shaved lines...into my eyebrows. I had brightly-colored leather and suede jackets. Nasty, egregious stuff. Sure, there's record of these mistakes...but they're locked away in old photo albums and VHS tapes...many under lock and key at my parents' home. You can't merely hit a few keystrokes and call them up to your computermaphone and show them to your chums...Thank God.
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| Busted!! |
But that's not the case for everyone. I don't know how to do it, but I'm sure there's a way to find old Twitter posts from accounts that are closed. And if you make an embarrassing video, even if you erase it, it's still floating around in the ethos just waiting for the wrong prying hands and eyes to grab it and use it in any way possible.
I haven't ever recorded myself sans pantalones...but I know some of you out there have...and I'm sure your friends have found the proof. What seemed like a good idea for just you and that special someone, wasn't so special or private as the dynamics of the relationship changed...and you and your pride have paid for that.
I guess what I'm driving at, is that, at least in this case, I'm glad to be a bit older than some of you reading this. Like you, I screwed up a lot during my time in high school and college...but back then, my buddies would have had to grab the camcorder to document it...and the only way everyone would have seen it was if we had a viewing party. A good friend of mine once questioned the sexual preference of a girl that turned him down during our Sophomore year in HS...and his reactionary stupidity spread quickly through school. But there was no Twitter or FB to immortalize his stupidity...and it's a good thing. He apologized to the girl, she forgave him and the thing just went away. Now, he's actually a pretty thoughtful and well-respected adult...he just wasn't that way when he was 15. Nor was I.
Sure, when I'm reminded by limited follicles, extra weight around the middle and the fact that it hurts to play basketball, I'm not too stoked about being a 36 year old...But all-in-all, I'm pretty damned thankful that I was born in 1975. And really, more importantly, I'm thankful to have been a teenager in the 90s (even if I may or may not have worn overalls during that era).