Young Man Walking With his Head Between a Set of Headphones in a Small Town

I thought about this a couple days ago when I was home for a brief visit, and after a nice evening walk, I felt inspired.

It's easy to take for granted the ability to walk. Think about it.

It's also easy to take how we walk for granted. One of my favorite pastimes used to be walking outside at night while listening to music. These days, I don't do it very often, as for obvious reasons, I won't do it in the city. As much as I enjoy walking freely without listening to music, sometimes it's better with music...

There's the audio sensation: some albums just sound better through headphones. If they're high enough quality headphones, you'll hear things you don't hear through a stereo. You'll notice more subtle differences, more layers of music, the tightness of those layers, and wonder how they all manage to stay together...

And then there's an indescribable sensation. This is by no means a "great album" by most standards, but "Dosage" by Collective Soul (you thought I was going to write about Pearl Jam, didn't you?), if listened through headphones on a warm, breezy nighttime walk, takes me places...places far beyond the small town I used to frequent. I sometimes would get this strange feeling like I was walking through a movie about my life (maybe it's a bit arrogant to assume anyone would make a movie about me, but whatever), perhaps to a soundtrack. Sometimes I'd be imagining seeing the band live. And other times, I was just thinking about anything but where I was, what I was listening to or what I was doing. Lost.

And then there's the complete opposite side, walking without headphones, and being completely aware of your surroundings (or at least trying to be). The smell of smoke from the hookah bar down the street, a light breeze flowing through the trees in the park, the sounds of dog tags jingling from both sides of the street, your eyes constantly adjusting to the changing light temperatures with each house you pass...it's quite the different animal, especially if you're in a forest.

Maybe it's for the better that I'm "forced" to be aware of my surroundings. I could go into depth and get all philosophical about zoning out, not wanting to be aware, etc, but not tonight. At any rate, walking is kinda awesome. It was a great way to end an otherwise "blah" Monday.

It's A Small World After All

It never ceases to amaze me how often I seem to encounter seemingly improbable connections. Take last night for example. I went to see my friend's band and ran into another friend. Doesn't sound that crazy, right? Let me back track...

In 2012, I met up with a friend in Washington, DC to see her friend Andrew's band. Long story short, I struck up a friendship with Andrew, and we jammed a few times before I moved out of the DC area. He eventually switched bands, I went to see them play a few times (including Portland, OR. I'm a dedicated fan. Hah) and became friends with the band.

Flash forward to last night. They came up to Philly to play a show no more than a half mile from my house. I was standing against the wall near the stage waiting for them to play, when I heard someone say "Ewok??"

My head snapped around. It was dark, so I couldn't really see who it was at first. How strange. I didn't know any of my friends I had invited from Philly were actually going to this show. Stranger than that, "Ewok" was my nickname in college, and I almost never see anyone from college these days...

Turns out it was this dude named Walters who I had met...I don't know, 10 years ago? Maybe longer? And of course, we met through yet another mutual friend.

So I asked, "What in the hell are you doing here?" Granted, I love Caustic Casanova (the band that we both came to see) but I didn't think they had much of a following in Philadelphia outside of a few friends and family. Apparently, Walters knows the bassist from way back when - they met through MySpace (haha) - and their bands used to trade shows between Philly and DC. What are the odds?

Just another reminder that the world is, in fact, very small, and we are all connected.

Oh, and the show was great, too. Thanks CC!

Lost and Found

Back in the middle of June, I was "in exile" in Canada. Save for one call to my Dad on Father's Day, I had no contact with anyone other than the family with whom I shared a cabin and the neighborhood merchants and residents.

For 5 days.

I was alone in a boat on a lake in a desolate part of rural Canada. Alone with my fishing gear and a book. And I was in love.

I had everything I needed: air, food, water, clothing, and shelter. I was me. I was human.

And when I came back to shore, the only concerns were cooking dinner and keeping the place neat and tidy while we relaxed. Life was stripped down and so simple, and it was beautiful:

After returning to the US, I found myself instantly pulled in about 10 directions. Suddenly I was checking e-mail. Returning text messages. Returning missed phone calls. I somehow successfully stayed off Facebook for a whole week and a day, but less than 24 hours after returning home, I was right back into the thick of this so-called "reality." I've been here ever since, and I hate it.

Maybe that's not the right word. It's a strong word. The point is that it took less than that amount of time for me to realize what I've known for quite a while: that I belong in a simpler time and place, far from all of the duties and responsibilities imposed upon us by modern society.

I'm not saying it's Canada, or anywhere in particular. But this whole idea that we "need" all of these things (insurance for every possible thing imaginable, a good credit score, etc.) is just so...strange. Think about all of the personal fulfillment and happiness that people sacrifice EVERY DAY in the name of artificial, material things. Do any other beings on this planet require any of the creature comforts/discomforts we as humans have grown to accept as facts of life? No. I'm also not the first person to come to these realizations, and this is also not the first time I've thought about this. But at any rate...

If you ever want to get someone to look at you like you have three heads (or fire you, depending on who you're talking to), suggest these ideas. Ask that obnoxious customer if they really "need" that Starbucks double crappuccino for $8.95 or whatever it costs. Suggest to authorities that the world won't end if X doesn't happen (you call in late for a conference call, you don't get your boss's coffee just right, you don't pay your parking tickets, you drink a beer on a "dry" beach...). Some things that are perceived as "wrong" were not really violations until humans became too stupid to act reasonably and rationally and had to enact artificial laws. And of course, those laws, like most things that humans do in modern life, are in place to support the most artificial of things that we "need" to survive: money.

A brief aside: I'm finally as close as I think I've ever been to living the lifestyle I want to live: wake up naturally around 6:30-7, relax with a cup of coffee, cook my meal(s) for the day and then head to work by 9. Work hard until 3, then spend the afternoon/evening doing whatever it is that makes me happy (music, walking, playing guitar, whatever). I actually need very little to enjoy myself, and be it here in the city or away in the woods, I'm always reminded of that. Simple is best.

Now back to the original rant: The only problem is that I'm still bound by money, whether I realize it or not. I really do like my job, but working part-time and attempting to spend more time enjoying my life outside of work earns just barely enough to continue to sustain a livelihood here in the city of Philadelphia, even though as I said, I don't need much. The few things I do need here (food and shelter) are expensive, and bartering is just something that doesn't fly all that much these days, even though I obviously have plenty of skills to offer. So I stress about finding more part-time work and being able to afford my artificial bills (a human declaring a monetary value on natural gas is akin to playing God, in my opinion. Just me?), still hopeful that I can find some sort of work-life balance instead of having to wait for a retirement that may never come.

And everyone says "Well, that's just the way things work and you have to deal with it." I call bullshit. I don't believe in handouts, but I also don't believe in working yourself to death and sacrificing your own personal well-being over something that can very easily be destroyed or that may not actually exist (most money never actually sees the light of day, if you think about it). I don't believe that "the way things are" is the way they have to remain. The only thing constant is change, right?

It's depressing. I know that more money won't ultimately make me happy. So what do I do? I choose not to think about it if I can. It's really, really tough. I choose to get lost as often as possible, because I've found what I need to be happy isn't money. I need simplicity. Unfortunately, today's society will try to tell me otherwise. Today's society will continue to push the idea that money is the most important thing in existence. I think all it's done for us, or at least for me, is make life far too complicated.

One random thought before I end: if I have equal sized piles of grain and money sitting next to each other, which pile will burn faster if I put a lit match to it? Just a thought...

Plantasia

I was looking at the collard, kale and bok choy plants on my windowsill yesterday morning, and though they are still relatively small in size (and not large enough to eat), I couldn't help but be in awe. I also felt a sense of pride because I've actually kept them alive for over 5 months! Hah. Small victories...here's a pseudo time lapse:

Seedlings purchased from the Wyck Historic Farm in Germantown:

"The First Lady" bug back in April:

Occasionally it rained sideways and actually broke off some smaller, weaker limbs.

Starting to look delicious:

My original intent was to re-plant these into a more permanent bed once I found a better place to live. That project has been delayed, so now I'm thinking big picture.

I've kept these fellas alive through temperature changes (and a cold summer), aphid afflictions, accidental over-waterings and maybe the biggest threat - the surprisingly gale-force Philadelphia winds! Seriously.

Acknowledging that they're limited because of the pots, I probably won't get to eat these this year. BUT, I have learned a lot, remembered a bunch of things that I had forgotten about gardening and plants in general, and if I do it right, I will have seeds for next year. We'll see...

The Repeater

Though I've been pretty good about keeping variety in my life, I've noticed over the years that certain things are constant. I guess that's not such a bad thing...

But even constants can also change within variety, oddly enough. I tend to meet a lot of people just because...well...I do. And when I do, depending on the person I meet or already know, though unique, they will probably say one of the following phrases during our interaction:
- Are you interested in saving 15% or more on your car insurance?

Alright...maybe not that one.

- Stephen...is that with a "V" or a "PH?"
- Wait, you're [age]? No way.
- I like your hat/shirt.
- What do you think about [Philadelphia sports story]?
- Dude you played/sang [90's song]! I haven't heard that in years!
- Are you Hispanic/Mexican/Puerto Rican?
- Are you gay? (No. Not that there's anything wrong with that.)
- You got a lighter, man? (OK, I think most people get asked that, but anyway...)
- You work in video? That's so coooooool! (Hah...)
- That [random object] is bigger than you!
- Nice dance moves. (In equal amounts of sarcasm and truth)
- Wow, you're single? (Strange that no one ever follows that with "I have a friend you should meet.")
- You're a jerk/OK smartypants/etc.
- Thanks for being so kind.
- Stop being so damn nice!

And more recently:
- Where's the rest of you?
- Wait...you...quit eating bacon?
- So...what DO you eat?
- I love your pictures!
- You should blog more often.

I'm working on it. Maybe hearing the same phrases over and over again is limiting my ability to come up with new material. :P

That Time Making a New Friend Led to Taking a Drifter Into my Home

He may or may not have been a drifter. I can't remember all of his details. Allow me to backtrack...

It was a balmy Wednesday evening in Philadelphia. I had just recently returned to United States (notice I didn't use the term "American") soil after a much-needed trip "off the grid" to Canada for fishing and outdoor fun-ness, and after having a few days to regroup, I was still in the process of re-organizing my immediate future. It's funny how vacations can relieve stress and create it in the process. Anyway...

The plan for my night was simple: I was supposed to get together with my buddy Max to work out some details on some video projects that he had coming up, and that was it. I didn't think it would take that long, and I was also sorely in need of a decent night's rest, so my hope was to meet up, catch up, come up with a loose plan, done. Home by 11-11:30. Goodnight.

It didn't turn out that way. For starters, I was eager to get back onto the music scene (of sorts), so instead of meeting at any old bar just for drinks, I came up with this great idea to meet up at an open mic night at a local dive. A great idea, for sure, except that it didn't start until 9 and I tend to forget what the rush of playing live music does to me...

Max was running a little late, so I had a couple beers before I played my set. He walked in as I was playing my last song, and when I returned to my post at the bar, he greeted me with a "City Wide," which is basically a shot of whiskey (varies depending on which Philly bar you frequent) and a PBR pounder.

For reasons I don't need to explain but will anyway, normally I would NEVER consider drinking this combination. For one, I can't get behind PBR any more. It used to not be cool until Clint Eastwood drank it in Gran Torino which actually drove the price up (I'm convinced that's what did it), it doesn't taste all that good to me and it's not really beer (it's made with corn syrup). Combine that with the fact that the copious amounts of Evan Williams (I know, I'm not proud of it either) I consumed in my mid-twenties have numbed my tastebuds to most any whiskey flavor and have also desensitized any effects I might feel from it until it's far too late, and add to the mix that my adrenaline surge from being on stage would further enhance the experience and...well...things will happen.

But hey, when someone buys you a drink, you don't turn it down. You do the sensible, friendly thing and drink it. So I did. We got to talking, one beer led to another, another beer led to another City Wide, and before I knew it, it was nearly closing time and I had all but forgotten about my plan to get a decent night of sleep.

Was it worth it? Of course. Some of my best (well, also worst) bonding experiences have happened this way, and this was no exception. I left the bar that night feeling like I had gained a friend, feeling no worries whatsoever. Not worried at all about my impending full day of work the next day, not worried about the steady rain that had started falling since I entered the bar, and certainly not worried about the amount of money I'd just spent.

Still feeling surprisingly coherent, I was walking home along a normally busy street when I paused for a red light and looked over to my right. I saw what I thought was a homeless man with a black dog leashed around his foot. The dog, seemingly friendly, came over to me and started sniffing and licking and doing his dogly investigation, thankfully stopping just short of marking his territory.

So, obviously seeking attention, I bent down to pet the dog, and somehow started a conversation with the "homeless man," who actually turned out to be a man in his mid-twenties hitchhiking on his way to California. Why, I can't remember. At this point, I think I finally started noticing the effects...but one thing I do know: hitchhiking on the East coast is not as easy as it is on the West coast. In fact, I think it's illegal in New Jersey.

Still undoubtedly feeling bad for a man and a dog sitting out in the rain that I would have felt drunk or sober, the conversation went on and I let him know that there was a spare cot in my place (DON'T TELL MY LANDLORD) if he wanted to get out of the rain for a few hours. Of course he agreed.

I know, I know...don't trust anybody. I'm crazy, right? And maybe it was the booze talking, but after living in a city for several months, I've started to notice my ability to tell the difference between who's trying to grift me and who's genuine has enhanced greatly. I didn't get a bad vibe, so we went back, shared some stories about the West coast, stayed up far too late (for me, at least) playing with the dog, I gave him some spiel about the disgusting Philadelphia city water he was carrying around/drinking and FINALLY I got some rest. Not nearly enough, of course.

I got up the next morning extremely late (yet I somehow made it to work on time, benefits of living within walking distance). I came downstairs and all was quiet. After a brief chat about sights to see in Philly, the man and his dog left. There's probably no way I'll ever see or hear from them again, but hopefully they made it to California, or wherever they were actually going...and hopefully they enjoyed their brief stay.

All Apologies

I've got a lot going on these days, and little time to write. It's unfortunate.

For those of you who still frequent this blog, I promise I'll be back again with more regularity some day.

In health and happiness,
Steve