Don't Call Me Needy

I've written about needs before, but this time of year, it seems to be a big topic of thought...give to the needy, etc.

I was on the phone with my Dad yesterday and he asked if I wanted anything more for Christmas. Truthfully, of course I did. But most of what I want are things I don't really need.

That's true of a lot of things in life. If you ask yourself what you really need, you'd be amazed at how much you don't actually need. Ask others the same...and be prepared for confusion, anger, or any emotion really. People don't like to be questioned on these sorts of things.

Case in point: I received a call this morning. When I said "Hello," the caller responded with "Yes, I need to speak to the person who manages the gas bill."

As someone who works in customer service, has worked in retail and has regular interactions with members of the general public as a representative of several organizations, I know what it's like when someone gives you a hard time. It sucks. However, the tactic of this phone call at this time of year gave me a slight jolt. So I responded with, "Do you really need to speak with them?"

Of course they said "Yes," we went back and forth for a minute or so and the conversation ended with me saying "Sorry, I don't need to talk about my gas bill. Have a nice day." See what I did there?

That person will probably tell her supervisor and/or co-workers what an asshole I was, getting all philosophical over something as simple as a gas bill, but I do these things in hopes of getting people to think twice. Whether it worked, I don't know. Hey. It made me think...

Try Me

A festive scene on Addison Street from my bike route the other nite.

"Don't go out without a coat. You'll catch a cold!"
-Every Mother Ever

In not so many words, that's basically what a sweet, caring woman said to me last nite as I was about to bike home wearing nothing on my upper torso but a long-sleeved thermal shirt, a t-shirt and a bicycle helmet. I said "Aww thanks, but I think I'll be alright. If you don't see me again this week, you'll know why."

An aside: In addition to various freelance video work, other random per diem gigs and working for Strengthening Health Institute, I now also work part-time for a sustainable laundry company, Wash Cycle Laundry (shameless plugs - deal with it). The basic gist is I ride around the city on a bike with a trailer attached to it, and I pick up and deliver laundry. It's actually way more fun than I thought it would be, even on a cold, rainy nite. Anyway...

When she said I should be wearing a coat, I thought very little of it. This is the same woman who, not 10 minutes earlier, asked me to bring the trash up from the basement, and as I carried a 40-pound bag in each hand she exclaimed "You got some muscles, little man." Hey, any chance I get to pat myself on the back, I will. I still had the adrenaline rush from making all my deliveries and that overall good feeling I seem to get from helping someone, so I biked off and said "See ya Wednesday."

One thing I really like about riding is that I get to think - sometimes it's about wonderful things, other times not so much, and most often, I just think about things that make me think. Wrap your head around that one...

So last nite, as I rode my bike home in a steady drizzle complemented by a stiff breeze, I did notice that I began to feel cold. It reminded me of a story I heard recently, about a Belgian man who had recently passed named Adelbert Nellisen.

Adelbert was a health advocate and adherent to the macrobiotic lifestyle. Apparently, he took a long bike ride in a cold rain, fell ill soon afterward and simply couldn't regain his strength. Some I've talked to recently who were close to him said (paraphrased) "A normally healthy person doesn't die from that. The last time I saw him, he seemed old and tired, which was not like him." Other stories I've heard about him were that he was very aggressive, sometimes too much so, and always pushed himself to the absolute limit. I guess it eventually caught up with him. Not the most pleasant thoughts to be thinking while biking home in the rain I suppose. I see parallels in his story and my own situation...because that's kind of who I am.

Working for 7 different employers (I think?) in the last year, it's no secret that I have been pushing myself pretty hard - I always have. Even in the face of doubt, depression and uncertainty, I tend to be aggressive. I can't try not to try, if that makes sense. All Yoda-isms aside, trying is why I am where I am. It's true for all of us in varying degrees.

This year, I finally found myself in position to be able to move to the city I've loved for so long, but knowing that I still had a lot of work ahead of me. I've been here for 9 months, doing everything and anything in my power to make it work. I've taken just about every opportunity I've been given, greeting it with open arms and accepting every challenge along the way, with mixed results.

If you'd have asked me 5 years ago if I imagined myself doing all of the things I do now, I'd have laughed at you. I don't think I've ever worked so hard in my entire life. It shows. Most of the time, if I get enough sleep, I feel fantastic. I look better than I ever have and I'm in the best shape of my life. I still can't figure out the opposite sex (and neither can you - don't lie), but I rarely question my own resolve to do whatever it takes to keep myself going. But for some reason last nite, I started to think: will I ever get to that point where I go too far?

Adelbert was a health advocate for a very long time, and even he fell victim to his own self. I've been trying to improve my health since about 2009, trying to do everything "right" to get better at, well, everything. I'm not saying we're anywhere close to being in the same ballpark, but as I said before, I can see parallels.

And so, as the rain drops pelted me in the face last nite, I was thinking, "Has pushing myself to the extents that I have really made me better overall - physically, mentally, emotionally, etc?" I can honestly say that it has. My only remaining hope is that I'll know when I reach the point that it's making me worse, and that I'll listen when it's time to put on a coat.

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!