For Maven's 1st Birthday

On this date 25 years ago, Jurassic Park debuted in theaters, and I was probably the only 12-year-old boy on the planet disappointed in it. Jurassic Park is a great movie. A classic. But for two years at that point, I had been reading and re-reading nothing but Jurassic Park the book. I was literally counting down the days until the movie arrived in theaters. This is a textbook case of setting yourself up for disappointment. You see, if I can pinpoint any turning point in my life, it's the moment I read Jurassic Park. I had always loved dinosaurs. And I liked reading about them. But before Jurassic Park, I had never read a book that so thoroughly and ruthlessly captured my imagination. I didn't know books could do that. It was the first book I ever really, truly, unconditionally loved. I practically lived inside of that book. In all truth, I expected Steven Spielberg & co to faithfully recreate the book to the exact specifications of my 12-year-old brain. I would accept nothing less. Of course, the movie wouldn’t live up to those astronomical expectations. No movie can. And so I learned there was nothing on this whole wide world that could compete with a good book. As the franchise has progressed, the Jurassic Park movies have devolved into bare excuses to see people run from CGI dinosaurs. There's a new one. It doesn’t look great. Yet I will see it. I can't help myself. That 12-year-old boy from 25 years ago still exists. He's still dreaming of a Jurassic Park that never was—that only exists inside his own head—inevitably setting himself up for disappointment. So, without further ado, here's a story that my 12-year-old self would be just as disappointed in.