com-parrison
Post on 19-Jul-2016
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Eli Troen
Aidan’s first R-rated movie was Saw, a movie about a psychopath who gives
“bad guys” the choice of survival or death. They usually end up dying in the end
because they don’t complete the gruesome and gory games he sets up for them.
There’s a crazy puppet, too. Aidan’s mother was pretty laid back and usually let him
do what he’d like to do, even watching Saw at nine years old. I remember how his
eyes lit up as he described the ridiculous, bloody, and strangely alluring movie
scenes to all of our friends. Everyone looked like they were zombies, in a sleep-like
trance, listening to him. He seemed so proud and accomplished when he said, “I
didn’t even close my eyes once!” A collective ooh followed.
Aidan also had the newest technology, which was odd because they weren’t
the most well off family. The day after the Gameboy DS came out, Aidan brought it
into school, and like a pack of dogs racing for their only meal of the day, everyone
surrounded him. It was a pretty amazing sight. I could hear the beeps and buzzes
and dings that came out of the device. I didn’t join everyone. I just sat at my table,
pressing the buttons on my brand-new mobile phone, a cutting-edge flip phone with
multi-colored backlight keys. This was how it usually was.
My first R-rated movie was The Big Tease, a movie with no blood, no violence,
and a lot of hair cutting. Though, there was a scene where the main character’s rear
end was unclothed, and someone slapped it. I don’t remember very much about it,
but I do remember thinking I have got to get my hands on a copy of Saw! (When I
finally did, I had nightmares for three weeks, the same amount of time I was
grounded.)
My parents were strict. His were divorced. That was probably why he always
was doing something cool or playing with some new toy that seemed too expensive.
It always seemed that when Aidan wanted to do something, he could. It’s unfair that
some people seem to have everything. My parents wouldn’t let me stay up past nine
o’clock. He was watching Yu-Gi-Oh! until twelve o’clock at night. I had a sleepover
party. He had a bowling party. I caught a Butterfree. He caught a Pikachu. I had
peanut butter for lunch. He had fluffernutter for lunch, without the peanut butter. It
was hard not to envy him.
Every summer, Aidan would spend the summer with his father in Portland,
Maine. It seemed like the most amazing summer. One story that he told us, he
expressed that walking on the coral and rocks in the water while fishing with your
hands was a “wicked experience”. He then proceeded to show us his calluses on his
feet. In another story, he told us that he went camping with his father in the woods
for five days. While he was out there, he said that he saw a bear fishing in one of the
streams. It was trying to catch something to eat. After a while, a lone Salmon
practically jumped into the bear’s mouth, and it walked off with a content smile on
his face. Aidan, of course, proceeded to top his story with tales of playing good-
hearted pranks on his stepbrother, who is also named Eli, and his father, never
getting in trouble, obviously.
Every summer, I would go to sleep away camp in Brookline, New Hampshire.
I wasn’t the most amazing way to spend one’s summer. Jewish sleep away camps in
the middle of nowhere was obviously some ruse thought up by parents as a way to
ship their kids off so that they could travel to fun places like France or Austria or
anywhere in Europe—which my parents did to my brother and me twice! At the
camp, we would participate in team building exercises on wooden platforms that
would creak with every step. We would then participate in Jewish culture hour and
learn about Jewish values each day. And every Friday night and Saturday morning,
we would go into the newly built “pavilion”—which reeked of wood and always
gave me a headache—to participate in Shabbat services. I’m sure Aidan never went
to Shabbat services, as he didn’t like them, and his parents didn’t either. I would sit
in my cabin at night creating stories in my head about all of the fantastic and
adventurous things that Aidan was doing at that moment. No doubt he was saving
some helpless bird from a predatory wolf or braving the class four rapids of the
Kennebec River.
Aidan wasn’t the best child, though. He didn’t act like he was spoiled, and he
was a very modest and kind individual. He did, occasionally act out in class, though,
and get into trouble. He would then proceed to make it worse by talking back to the
individual who called him out on it. His mother was always so sweet, yet she seemed
a little disappointed when Aidan “did something wrong”. She was always
understanding. It was unheard of for Aidan to be grounded, unlike me. It seemed
like I was grounded every week for something. Aidan was ADD/ADHD, too, and that
affected his grades. I was often able to be part of his seemingly awesome life when I
went over to his house to help him with homework and then play, but we never did
anything quite as cool as his stories.
Around sixth grade, Aidan’s mom remarried—obviously to someone that
Aidan never quite seemed to get along with, and they moved down to Marathon,
Florida, where they own a boat and a small house right on the beach. We lost touch
after he moved. I’m not quite sure which life was the better one: the seemingly
awesome and adventure-filled life that Aidan lived or mine, the normal and often
not-cool-enough life that I led. I guess it doesn’t quite matter now, though I do wish I
could’ve had Aidan’s ability to watch—and enjoy—Saw. Those nightmares were
freaky!
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