Hi Ilya, a.k.a. “there is”, et al.
I’ve just re-visited the blog after a few gentle reminders from my uncle, your father, and found it to be much more updated and happening than it was a week ago, including a BLOGPOST from our GRANDMOTHER--- the significance and insanity of this took a while to sink in. So anyway, I think the reason I’ve been avoiding contributing until the last moment, thus evoking a mild panic from your father, my uncle, is for at least two reasons. The first is I generally don’t do things until there is absolutely no way to put it off any longer, and secondly I think Lena was correct in calling it a daunting task, but for me it may also be a first, cos I think I’ve made it through the last 20 years without ever giving you a card or birthday present… I’m a bad person. Perhaps I did at one stage give you a Matchbox 20 poster and I remember, somewhat hazily, you pointing out to me that it had been exactly a century since you considered yourself to be a fan of the band. This was probably one of my first “oh my god I’m old” moments, which actually brings me to my point.
According to Ilya, he and I belong to different generations (I wikied generations, by the way, and apparently the research is conflicting as to when Generation Y actually starts. Some say it’s 1981, some say it’s 1978, some say it includes anyone who’s old enough to have kids but still lives with their mothers whilst owning an Ipod, which, as we all know, described me perfectly until recently). But what is Wikipedia to a man with a seemingly endless store of knowledge? Apparently Ilya and I differ in that I belong to the “depressed teenager” generation, and he does not. Which is true-- when you think about it, no one ever saw Ilya dressed all in back sulking in a corner at family gatherings, or heard him yelling “in a minute” while the whole family were
patiently waiting to blow out the candles on his birthday cake. Somehow Ilya skipped all that (though he did, undeniably, eat poo, but I sort of promised myself that I wouldn’t go into that here). Whatever the reasons for that, he’s about to emerge from his teens with a passion for life and knowledge that I don’t recall myself having back then. If I had 5 people screaming at me that I was wrong about the current state of Australian politics, I probably would tell them all to f*** off and not speak to them for a week. And that’s now, not 10 years ago. This is what always amazes me about you, Ilya-- how much knowledge you have, and how interested you are in knowing more and more, from CBT techniques to the gang problem in New Zealand, and everything in between!
What this shows me, and perhaps what his sister doesn’t realise she has in common with him, is that Ilya wants to experience everything possible, but in his way. I may not agree with him on a myriad things, for example, which mobile phone plan I should go on, or whether it’s OK to say “happy future mother’s day”, but it doesn’t matter, because for better or worse,
Ilya will approach these differences with a calm acceptance that has started to rub off even on me. For anyone not familiar with our mishpucha, we are not a "calm acceptance" sort of family, and it is really amazing where Ilya gets it from..
Anyway, I ALSO feel like I’m rambling. So I shall sign off, with a regret in my bosom that I, or my ghetto booty, won’t be there at the Russian Coachman (OK so maybe it’s a mixed regret) to properly celebrate your big day with you. Happy Birthday, have a great party and an amazing, brilliant, overwhelmingly excellent trip. Big-ups from the J-frog.
Oh, and this has been stuck in my head for the last couple of weeks and I must write it down immediately:
ILYA ILYA IT’S YOUR PARTY TODAY
ILYA ILYA OH LET’S HEAR A HOORAY
ILYA ILYA YOU’RE A FRIEND AND A MATE
ILYA ILYA WE THINK YOU ARE GREAT!!
(L. Zak, circa 1992, I wish I could remember the rest of the brilliant lyrics).
Lots and lots of love and kisses and hugs and bra boys type handshakes.
xxxxxxxxxxx Tatty
