Riders on the Storm

Back again, so very soon, after not writing much for the entire month. Well, actually, that isn't completely true. For you see, during this time that I've been on leave from work for two months, I've been writing a long short story, it's not finished yet. It's a better, more refined version of my zombie virus short story entitled Human, Ghoul, Zombie, which you can read here. Other than that, yes, the writing has been sparse. But we'll see how long that lasts. 

Here I'd like to explore the idea of walking the Earth, not only cognizant of yourself, but also dealing with how the pandemic has forced us all into an all too close relationship with ourselves, our families, our friends, and coworkers. I haven't seen too many people writing about this. Perhaps psychology blogs are all over this, who knows.

First off, we're all riders on the storm. We're all walking the Earth, in our own inimitable way. Before the pandemic life was simple, easy, and carefree. Now we are all forced into isolation if we're sick, isolation if we're not sick too, and we've been forced into an all too close relationship with our friends, families, coworkers, and loved ones. 

I don't know but I've been told that in other cultures they don't really have a problem with that. In fact, in some cultures, they prefer their people to be extremely close to each other; mom/dad/kids/grandpa-ma all live together and in poorer parts of the world there are sometimes entire families that live in one room together. The thought of that to most Americans is absolutely unacceptable. But it has its virtues. 

The Japanese make the best astronauts. Why? Because they're used to being confined in small spaces, they get along well with each other, and they're very polite. Why, if Americans were more like the Japanese, there wouldn't be so much dysfunction in families or in the workplace. 

In my own personal experience, I would say I've handled lockdown with family 24/7 pretty well. But not great. I'm not Japanese astronaut status, yet. What am I doing that's working well? 

For one thing, I've found that I'm actually able to find the breaking points with the people around me; I know when and if I set them off, when and if I need to give them space, when and if I need to cool it, and when and if I can engage with that person more in a friendly nature, and lastly, when and if I'm set off/when and if I need a break and/or time out. I'm talking about this as it pertains to myself, my family, and friends but it also applies to my work life as well. 

The lockdown has forced many families into situations where it's easy to be mean or even small to your family, friends, and coworkers. Familiarity breeds contempt as they say. What we're trying to do here is to avoid all that, or if it's impossible to avoid it, to mitigate it as much as possible in order to strengthen relationships and make life better and easier during the most brutal moment in our lives. 

Obviously, if someone ticks you off, you should say something, right? Yes, but watch out, what you say to the other person might affect your life in a much more severe way than you think, especially if you live with that person, if you work with that person closely, or if they're a good friend of yours that you see on a regular basis. It's best to be lighthanded when it comes to dropping the hammer on people that are in your immediate close circle that you see all the time or live with. When it comes to severe arguments, and yes, they are inevitable I'm afraid, remember that it's always the person who gives in and bends the knee and stops fighting that is the better man. You can argue till you're blue in the face but if you see this person constantly you're a lot smarter if you just bend the knee and find some reasonable accommodations between you two. This goes for social and/or work relationships too.

Lastly, to close I should add that life with my family has become like a dramatic space opera; where I'm confined inside a small space shuttle with three other people, and everything I say to them, or do in the space shuttle, every action, large or small, has repercussions or positive effects that strengthen or diminish the morale of everybody aboard the shuttle. Obviously, I want the crew to make it to their destination and finish the mission. In order to make sure that happens each person has to play their part. Or if I play my part in such a manner that it's so good that I astound myself, what the other crew members do won't be as crucial, leading to a stronger party, like a pickup group in a video game with strong leaders and supporting roles that carry the team to victory. The point of all of this is simply to make you a more thoughtful person; the process is daunting, but the reward is a lifetime achievement. 


"The world on you depends, our life will never end"

The End

And in the end...

A lot of times I think about the present and think about how it is the end. The end of what? The end of various things, from trivial matters to big, important matters. The end of a jam session, hard day of retail, a day off, a day, a year, a decade, twenty years, thirty years. A life.

I was pretty sad the other day when I found out that Ginger Baker, drummer for Cream, the second rock supergroup after the Beatles had died. He was eighty years old. He lived a full life. Yet it still got to me. Ginger has always been my favorite rock and roll drummer. Before he was in Cream, he played jazz and blues gigs with Jack Bruce. I've seen him on video playing very good straight-ahead jazz drumming styles, something akin to Elvin Jones, Buddy Rich, and Art Blakey, the best of the best in the genre. 

Ginger's death made me think of a lot of other things that have come to an end. My best friend at work got transferred to another store, a promotion for him. We still hang out but a lot less often because his work is a lot farther, and his hours have changed. On top of that, a very good friend of mine seems to be too busy to hang out. The solitude of my home life has been removed due to a new housemate. My attitude about playing open mics has changed. Sometimes I'm just not feeling it and end up not going after practicing said songs to be performed. What's the deal? 

Sometimes I even go to the extremes of going through all my intellectual reading pursuits, discussing it with people in public, and with friends, and think to myself, "What's the point? Will anyone ever care about Littgenstein's Brown and Blue Books? Heidegger's Being and Time? Descartes? The Tale of Genji? A Distant Mirror? Floating Worlds?" The obvious answer is that it might not matter if they don't care because I care, that's the only thing that matters in a sense. Of course I don't mean this in selfish way, rather, so many people are so intellectually bankrupt they wouldn't care to discuss philosophy or literature. But that's subject for another discourse. 

Things change. People change. We have to keep on going, moving on, keep on grooving. The road we travel is a solo path even if you have a wife or girlfriend. Friends are great company but I've found that most of my friends, who are mostly younger than me, are a lot more arrested than myself, meaning, that most of our hangouts consist of me babysitting in a way. It's a sad realization. At first it was, a farce, now tis but a tragicomedy. That's a Marx quote, one of my favorites. 

Now we get to the crux of the matter. Everything you love will be gone one day. Enjoy everything you can and live with no regrets. Even just living life one year ago with the different dynamics is something I miss dearly.

Everything changes but in the end the song remains the same.

Summer's [almost] gone

Summer's [almost] gone. We are in the midst of autumn. My favorite season of the four seasons, Vivaldi style. Obviously, I enjoy Fall because of my father and my own birthday, which just past on September 25th. But there are other reasons why I love Fall. 

Fall is the season of change. New beginnings. The same old humdrum routine feels different somehow even though I've already been here before, maybe even a thousand times, metaphorically speaking, of course. I'm working in a similar job that I've always worked at during Fall. The same old things remind me of old memories and experiences even though everything is slightly different. Variations on deja vu, if you will. 

I remember lots of things from Wisconsin and my last visit to Chicago two years ago. The leaves in the midwestern streets, thousands of them, littered all over, sometimes burnt in firepits, but most of the time just swept into the streets, for cars to pass them by, and shuffled into the air. The variations of colours on the leaves vary from bright, dark oranges, to reds, to browns, to dirty black. The crisp cold California air that comes in October and November. Skateboarding home from school in 70-degree temperatures to the Wisco house. 

The more I remember the more I think and ruminate on all of it. It's a work of beauty, majesterial. I'm older, different, but still slightly the same, the song remains the same. 

In terms of business its the beginning of the holiday season, which means sales, sales, sales. I've learned to control my spending habits and not waste money frivolously so I'm already much more prepared for the holidays than I was any other year of my life. The big difference here is that I'm not a consumer anymore. I just buy clothes and food. I don't need any more guitars or video games. I don't need much of anything. There comes a time when a man realizes that he should only buy what he needs. A 21st-century schizoid man has what he doesn't need.

Work reminds me of other past work experiences. Different people remind me of other people I've worked with. The young girls always remind me of other girls. The guys too. California retail is a blessing because I used to have a much harder time getting to and working at places in Wisconsin. But there's definitely an air of "I've been here a thousand times before," every time that I clock into work, every time I talk to a co-worker, every time I talk to a customer, the feeling that never goes away, during the Fall.

Perhaps this is just the worldhood of the world. Either way, summer's gone. C'est la vie.