I'm Still Alive

Hey.

I've moved to a bigger house.

I've started another new job (I now work three part-time jobs).

Sometimes I make time for fun, like sports, open mic nights, other assorted things...

I'm living in the city I love and never would have envisioned it this way, but overall, things are alright.

I'm also very busy, and I really want to blog more, but I just don't have the time. I miss it. I promise one day I will get back into this with more regularity. I still have plenty of stories.

For those of you who still read this, thank you for your support. Much love, health and happiness to you, and have a safe Thanksgiving/holiday season (ya know, just in case I don't blog for another two months again).

Your Fear is a Gift

Once again, I'm on the cusp of another move. You’d think after 7 (yes, 7) moves in less than 5 years and a cross-country road trip and back, I’d be used to this sort of thing. I’ll only be moving a couple miles down the road this time, but there’s always a degree of uncertainty…

Until this evening, I was excited about it. Actually, I’m still very much excited.

For what? I don’t know. I think that’s what keeps me excited: the unknown.

It’s tough to recall a feeling, yet tonight, I remembered what it felt like to be here in this neighborhood for the first time. I left a bar having just watched my favorite hockey squadron get demolished by some guys wearing red claiming to be BLACK hawks, but whatever…and on the walk home, I noticed a street that I’d walked past literally every day since I’ve lived here, yet never bothered to venture onto.

So I veered right. It wasn’t a dark, dank alley, but it was…strange to say the least. I paused several times because I knew I had seen all of these places before, from the front. They had that same pre-packaged look that most hipster trust-fund baby paradises do, but yet they looked so different. They looked so…new to me.

And that’s when it hit me that I’m moving, and though I’ve only been here for 8 months, I’m really going to miss this neighborhood. I’m very hesitant to leave. I have my coffee shop. My grocery store. My bar(s). Restaurants. Open mic nights. Friends. Memories. And, as I found out tonight, many places I still haven't seen.

I’ve almost grown so secure here that I don’t want to leave the safety of my “comfort zone” once again. Should I? I’ve also picked up some new work, nothing that’s guaranteed, of course. Is that going to work out? If it doesn’t what do I do then?

I don’t know what’s going to happen. No one knows. Some might think that because of some of the things I’ve done, I’d be fearless. That’s just not the case. I’ll admit that though this isn't the same kind of unknown feeling of a cross-country road trip or even an out-of-state move, I’m still very much afraid.

But one of my friends once quipped that we should do things that scare us often, and he was right…

Littering and...

...trying to change the world.

I promise this picture will make sense if you read on...

It was a bright sunny afternoon in Philadelphia. Dare I say, it was a PERFECT Autumn day. I had just left work and had gotten into my car to go to my friend's place for music, dinner, beverages, conversation, world domination, whatever...

I was about to leave my parking spot, but there was a car coming the opposite direction on one of the several narrow streets near my apartment. So I waited. As it approached, I saw a bright orange object being ejected from the driver's side. The driver, clad in sunglasses in what appeared to be an Audi or a BMW, nonchalantly passed by shortly thereafter, casually puffing a cigarette as he drove on.

Knowing full well that he had just thrown trash out of his car, I put the car in park, got out and picked up what turned out to be a bag from a place known as Eye Chic. Of course, I was annoyed, not just because I was picking up trash, but more so because THERE'S A FUCKING TRASH CAN ON JUST ABOUT EVERY CORNER IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD (expletive necessary).

On top of that, it wasn't dry trash...there was a styrofoam cup inside the bag with the fresh remnants of some obviously poor quality cheese fries. Though only a few seconds old, the smell was atrocious. I almost didn't want it in my car, but I entertained these grandiose notions of tracking down the driver and throwing it back into his open window, so I picked it up and drove off.

Needless to say, that didn't happen. That's probably for the better anyway. I pulled over before I got on the highway and threw it away. I don't want to be all high and mighty, because that trash can could very easily have been toppled over by a gust of wind a minute later, but I'll rest easily knowing that I tried to do the right thing.

Before I threw it out, I looked through the rest of the trash in the bag. Y'know...I had gone that far, I figured I might as well dive in to investigate, right? What I found was an empty box from a pair of sunglasses (probably the ones the driver was wearing) and the receipt, pictured above.

Again, my mind started thinking grand things of how to "stick it to 'em" or something...but then after I thought about going back to the store to ask for a phone number or an e-mail address to contact the litterbug, I realized it would be futile in the long run. Pick your battles, right?

So, Mr. Preny, or P. Peny, or whatever that name is, transaction number 22169 who paid $325.00 for your pair of sunglasses, enjoy them. I know what you did. You know what you did. Rather than trying to hold you accountable, I'll just keep picking up the trash, hoping you'll make a better choice next time.

And now, I'm going to get off my high horse. There's more work to be done...

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...