“Travis, get up! We’re going to be late!” shouted my mom from the front door of our Miami ranch house. I sat upright in my bed, and hit my head on the low ceiling. The 4’ high ceiling in my bedroom was the “best” that my parents could afford. I don’t care. At least I have a ceiling.
Today, we were taking a skiing vacation to Alaska for my 16 birthday. I’m the best skier on the National Miami Ski team (I know, skiing in Miami?), but it seems that skiing doesn’t equal money. Same with being the smartest in your grade. I run into the bathroom, brush my teeth, and zoom out the door and into the car.
While on the plane, during the 9 hour flight, I held my ski suit in my hands. Given to me when i joined the Miami Ski team, it was silver with gold flecks, and was a whole suit, with gloves and pants and socks attached. It uses the most advanced aerogel technology, and is only ½ inches thick. I saved up my money for six years for the half of it I would pay for. It was $1,499.99.
When we land, we go to the hotel, and leave everything there except for my ski suit. I’m not trusting that with anyone but myself. Then we go to the mall. The awesomest mall in the word.
As I walk out of my 50-by-50 foot room with a 40 foot tall ceiling, I think of how this may be the first time in my life that I’m actually happy. Father (I can’t call him Dad), Mother (I can’t call her Mom), 3 servants and, of course, me. Or maybe it’s “I”. I guess the 10+ (I lost count) tutors that Father hired - and then fired - to keep up with my, as he put it, “exponentially amplifying acumen.” Apparently an acumen is the “ability to understand and reason”. Anyway, I have to go. I’m going to miss my flight to Alaska!
P.S. To those reading: Father gave me this journal to record what happens on this trip.