I started life poor, my mom patching clothes until my dad got out of school. Not that I remember much of it, given how young I was, but what I do remember is the change afterwards, when we moved to Oregon. For a short five years it was that idyllic American life of bombing down suburban streets on a BMX and playing in the woods. I had not one, but two forts built in the slice of forest behind our house. The divorce, and later move, and intermittent child support as courts put life on a feast or famine rotation.

It doesn’t take long to the learn the value of money. Not that it was a direct concern when I was a kid, but I could see the effect it had on my mom and on what we were able to do. It wasn’t back to wearing patchwork pants, but things were not as easy to come by for a number of years.

After the divorce had settled, we left Oregon and moved to Colorado. The trip took nearly a week, though I’ve done it in less than two days since. That’s what having four kids under the age of 11 is like; everything is always in flux, yet takes forever to get anywhere. On arriving, we stayed in an RV park that had cabins which sat along a small creek. My mom spent more of her time looking for a rental house while we played in the sparse wooded area along its bank. Attached to the RV park office there was a restaurant with a back room that had arcade games. I remember going through a roll of quarters with my sister and brother playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I can’t remember my graduation well, but I can remember the smell of that room and my brother laughing when sister’s character would die. She play Raphael, who was arguably the worst.

I had a mixed group of friends in middle and high school. In many ways it seemed like we’d been thrown together out of necessity more than shared interest. Leftovers after everyone else had made friends. Some had money, and others didn’t. I fell somewhere in the middle.

Do you think I do these things for real?

I do these things just so I survive

And you know I will survive

At the periphery of our group there were all sorts. Some have died in recent years, others are in jail, many are plodding along, ekeing out the American Dream® one pay check at a time.

Never watch your life slide out of view

And then dance and drink and screw

Because there’s nothing else to do

I look at the circumstances in those years and wonder how things would have turned out if my life had been a little different. If my parents had stayed together or if I’d stayed in Oregon. What little change could have pulled me from where I’m at right now, on my couch in Taipei, writing this.