I used to hate taking history classes in school. I've never been good with names and dates; history classes are mostly names and dates, and the tests in history classes are usually nothing more than a test of your memory for names and dates. So basically I don't like history because I'm not good at it. I don't remember where or who I heard it from, but I've heard that we as a society have a responsibility to study history so that we can learn from it, and ensure that we don't make the same mistakes. That makes history sounds a lot more important, and less like nothing but names and dates. I should probably work on getting good at history.

Until you've learned from history, you're pretty much doomed to live in a longer and less comical version of Bill Murray's life in "Groundhog Day". Could you imagine how great the world would be if our elected officials had done better in history? We wouldn't have twice in two decades brought war upon an already savaged part of the world. We would have figured out this economy thing a long time ago, and racism would truly be extinct. We wouldn't have presidents getting blow jobs in the oval office, we wouldn't have them trying to hide information from us, and we wouldn't have them spending money on shit that isn't in our best interests. If they were better at history, they would have already figured out what doesn't work.

Not being good at history leads us to spinning our wheels, both on large and small scales; we pick the concept that comes easiest to us and go with it, no matter what. Out of panic and fear, we cling to the most comfortable situation, forgetting that we've tried that already. And we drill at it, and go for it time and again, each time expecting different results, each time not paying any attention at all to history. Sometimes there are moments of clarity, those often suck, where you realize what you've been doing and are like "damn, I've been fucking up", but once you're faced with the situation again there's the panic, and you're back to Square One.

Square One means that you haven't gone anywhere. You haven't moved. It's a nicer sounding way of saying "you've failed". Unfortunately, Square One can be a deceitful whore. Some of us unenlightened individuals find a sense of comfort in Square One because it is familiar. It's usually comfortable in the most uncomfortable kind of way, but it's something. People like comfort, even when it's bad for us, or Applebee's wouldn't still be in business. We're afraid to go elsewhere because we've never been there before. So we sit in the parking lot spinning wheels and doing donuts, but we never leave, and we revel in the familiarity, even though it's probably killing us.

Normally this is the part in the story where the author would reveal their personal connection to the idea they've just outlined, maybe try to get the reader to feel a connection as well. I don't really feel like I need to do that. I'm sure that anyone reading this can connect me to it in their minds, and maybe possibly even themselves. Most of my friends aren't dummies. I've recently begun to realize that I've racked up most of my life mileage just by spinning my wheels, and I'm not too happy about it. And I'll end with that.

I am very sad to be back in Baltimore. In Florida, the trees were still alive and beautiful; here, our trees look like dangerously miserable sticks in the mud. The temperatures got into the 70s during the day, but it gets cold enough to see your breath at night. It was perfect weather to get in the hot tub in the evenings, so I did, and now I have a rash. Also, the dry heat in the car on the way down and back has given me sinus issues and a sore throat. I pretty much take those things as a sign that I shouldn't have left Florida. So I'll probably move down there in June.

Thanksgiving was great. I haven't experienced a family Thanksgiving in years, not since Devin was still an infant, and it was everything I wanted it to be. Not too many people, but definitely better than my last Thanksgiving, which I spent making a dent on my couch while watching a marathon of "Jon & Kate Plus 8", waiting for my roommate to bring me leftovers from her family affair. The only thing missing was Devin, of course, and sauerkraut. Apparently sauerkraut is a "northern" thing. Well I plan on taking it down there because they don't know what they're missing.

The babies were great, and I didn't even get bored with them and their antics until the morning of our last day there. I consider that an accomplishment. I'm proud to say that I no longer want a baby to get up in me, and that feels good, man.

RECAP

-Florida is great. There are many rednecks, but no more than I'm used to dealing with from living in Dundalk for so long.

-Babies can all fuck off for a while.

-I got to spend my Thanksgiving afternoon in my bathing suit, sunning myself on a hammock. Can't say that about Baltimore.

-Motorcycles are fun, but Florida doesn't have a helmet law, therefore my uncle has no helmets and I felt like I was going to die.

-BEACHES!