Century Mark

My last post was my 100th since starting this blog 16 months ago and this weekend left me no time and in no condition to write, but forcing myself to produce four posts per month has kept me in writing shape, so while my world of hungover is inching me closer and closer to a long, restless night's sleep, I'm using my waning time to talk about the weekend that was.

Started with a party at RAM with coworkers and my brother: Gorgeous, warm, sunny afternoon cocktails with the anticipation of a long, fun weekend ahead. There aren't many better feelings than that.

A BBQ at a friends house back in Palatine: The gang was back together, bags and frisbees were flying, food was delicious, the weather was perfect, the drinks were flowing, and we all had fun. Success.

Saturday hanging around Palatine then going out in the city: Successfully found enough people and a location for bags, had enough sun for some sunburn, and had enough time to get back for the Hawks game. Having a team in the finals for a sport creates an unbelievable buzz in the city, it needs to be experienced.

Sunday before Memorial Day Cubs game: We had perfect weather, a great group, awesome seats, (crappy game), Gruber caught a baseball tossed up during batting practice, hours of bags, laughing, and countless other shenanigans.

It was a long, exhausting, sun and friend filled Memorial Day weekend, including two Stanley Cup victories for the Hawks. I'd say if I had to take a weekend to blame for not having time to write, I couldn't have sketched it up any better.

Justified: Quick to Judge

So imagine the scenario: You've left work 45 minutes ago. The sun is toasting your car. Your socks are dripping with sweat. You've been in bumper to bumper, Chicago traffic for miles. You're still not even halfway home. Your schedule is being shifted. And above all, there is nothing you can do. Then, just as you're ready to punch through your airbag, you see a 1992 rusted Chevy Corsica flying down the shoulder going 45mph. The sun now has nothing on your heat. You nearly steam the windows you're so fired up. All you can think of is every sinful insult you've heard in your life. Every putrid put down. Every offensive onslaught. And you curse the Corsica for life, banish the driver to eternal damnation, and hope that they get caught between on-ramps, impaled into an overpass. That's the only possible solution for someone with such careless disregard for the rest of the dying public, the creeping masses.

But what if the driver of that car is on his way to the hospital where his wife has passed out while giving birth. a.) Traffic laws no longer apply; b.) He is not intentionally giving you the proverbial middle finger; c.) Are you really in a position to judge whether or not his actions are justified? There is only one thing in the world that matters to him, and nothing will stop him from getting to his family, regardless of the consequences, which, I must say, hardly include the scowls from the cars he his passing. It's his life to live. It's his head that must come to a rest at night. You were ready to throw down the shackles of death, but at the end of the day, you just don't know.

This is one, relatively drastic situation, but consider how many times you pass negative judgment on someone based on a minuscule act of inconsequential importance. It happens constantly and consistently throughout the course of every hour of every day. It's impossible to ignore. I'm in no way a saint when it comes to this. I throw out the back handed slaps to the face as often as Rick Flair. Or at least I used to. And I'm writing this now to try to change that mindset.

Like I said, at the end of the day, you just don't know. In the same way that everyone's tolerance of pain is different, and not all people may perceive the outside world in the same light, every person has a different threshold of what will cause them to act in a way that goes against your grain. There is no standard. There is no base line to follow. There are certain situations that will cause me to react in a volatile, hostile, and really damn aggressive manner. It doesn't happen very often, but they are out there, those situations. And I promise you, you do not want to be around when that time comes. Besides me, think of how many times you see an unfortunate, uncomfortable, inopportune situation, that in some way, negatively impacts your life, and your first reaction is to assign them some life fault. But, you just never know.

HEY, HEY, CHRIS!!!! But what if that speeding Corsica was just another asshole in the eternally long line of assholes walking this earth? Then so be it. But what's the harm in cutting him some slack? If you judge them as damnable, then all it does it make you more mad and peg a possibly innocent person (that you'll probably never meet) as a leper, an outcast, a social deviant. But if you think, 'wow, bet he has an emergency to get to, am I ever glad I'm not in his shoes,' well, then, it goes away. Last night, it took an extra 20 minutes to get home from work because there was a four-car accident on the expressway. Instead of my first thought being, 'thanks ya'll, now I'm late to dinner,' I forced myself to think, 'well being that person would have really put a wrench in my plans for the night.'

This this kinda bleeds into the theory of there's someone else out there that has it worse, so appreciate where you are. If you just take the time to step back and assign a justification to whatever crazed situation you are witness to, you might find the world isn't filled with bastard coated bastards with bastard filling, maybe they just need to catch a break from the person riding on their high horse. So step off your judge's platform and put down the gavel, who knows, someone might cut you some slack when things don't go according to plan.

My Dirty Little Secret

So while I was caught up watching Freaky Friday on my withering Sunday evening, I saw a commercial for ABC Family's Summer of Secrets, featuring season previews of teenage dramas revolving around lies, secrets, cover-ups, and any other less than honest activities. This is not the first time that the topic of secrets has inspired a rash of thoughts, so let's see if I can actually form them into something logical, literate, and legible.

Take some time to think about the secrets you currently keep. Things that are voluntarily kept out of the light, away from public discussion, hidden, locked, stored in a safe, and reserved for only the rarest of the rare situations. How long is your list? Did that process bring you through a rash of embarrassing, illegal, and possibly harmful thoughts, behaviors, and actions from your past?

I'm oscillating so much on this topic because I keep contradicting myself. So for the sake of writing, I'm going to have to make some generalizations that I recognize might have fragments of untruth. I apologize for this, but it helps me to be able to place my head around the idea. Since secrets can be positive, like confessing love, or conspiracy driven, like political scandals, or even beneficial, like a sweet, secret agent, you have to forget those and follow my logic. The secrets I'm referring to are the ones that make you feel guilty to keep them, that create lies and deceits to cover them up, and have the potential to ruin a positive experience if ever leaked.

Secrets have been popping up in a lot of entertainment recently, and the display of dramatic irony is key to keeping the audience guessing, or characters in the show guessing. We don't need that in our lives. Secrets and lies often parallel each other, and when the topic of under-the-rugging flirts with danger, the stakes are raised and the effect is snowballed. So something that starts as an innocent infraction, a minor case of bending the laws (legally, emotionally, personally, whatever), can fester, grow, and become an uncageable beast. Something small but dangerous requires constant suppression, guilty lies, and keeping the truth away from people that may be closest to you.

I know, I am writing in vague terms with poor examples and dizzying synonyms, but I guess this little rambling was meant to convince you to keep less secrets, be less dramatic, and leave the chaos that comes with covering the truth to the paid actors. The less you have to cover up, the more people will get to know the real you. And if the real you is something you're trying to hide, then consider making positive changes in your life so that you can leave more of it exposed.

Young Forever

While I was driving home yesterday, I saw a man, looked to be in his mid 60s. His hair was somewhere between gray and white. He was driving a small SUV. And both his hands were locked hard on the wheel. And while staring through his thick glasses, he bobbed his head, keeping the beat to a song I could only begin to imagine. There we were, driving down the same expressway, at the same time, 40 years separated, separated by clothes, cars, morals, ideals, experiences, memories, and hair color, but for a moment in time, we were the same person. The same, music blasting, head bobbing, carelessly mumbling lyrics guys, cruising along the pavement. By living in our own musically driven world, we inherently breached those same boundaries in a passing glimpse of each other lives. Did he see me and think about what his life was like when he was 24 years old? Well that I'll never know. Kinda doubt he had car stereos for him to rock out to. But I can assure you, I looked at him, and immediately wondered what kind of man I would become.

And that question didn't fall into the usual, unbelievably complex and side winding thought strand that I have been known to spit out. It came down to one, simple, elegant, perfectly precise question: When I am 65 years old, driving home after renewing my license, will I still be grooving to some song from my young years, rocking out to Disturbed on the classic rock station, moving my shoulders to Dre on the classic rap station, or simply smiling and singing to Counting Crows on the oldies station? See? Precise.

Obviously this question has an answer that won't come for 40 years, but I can tell you this, I will do everything I can to maintain the happiness and freedom of my 'youth.' I know that with every year that adds on, more responsibilities, more people depending, more expenses, more worries, stresses, illnesses, deaths, and the like, all add on too. And it is normal to be content with those transitions. I don't think it's a matter of maturity. But I hope that as I age, and when 25 becomes 35 and becomes 45, that as these numbers keep flying by like a street light from a roller coaster, I can do my best to always have a thumb on top of my younger days.

I don't anticipate this to be easy, and I know this whole idea is a little cliche, but I just don't want to grab a box from a closet one day to see my Collective Soul tape fall out and realize I haven't heard a song from the 90s in months. And I don't want to be caught up watching the new 2031 fall crop of NBC's regurgitated cop dramas without popping in my recently ordered complete series of O.C. DVDs. And I don't want to be in the theaters for the apocalyptic thriller, '2040,' without enjoying a private screening of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in my living room some time.

And I want to be able to pick up a wiffle ball bat and laugh. And I want to buy a hot wheels car for my son, and secretly just pick out the one that I'll play with when he goes to bed. And I want to be able to sing the Toys 'R' Us song like I did in my 6th grade talent show.

But most of all, when the weather is nice, assuming we still have nice weather in 20 years, and when my windows are down, assuming we still have cars with windows in 20 years, I want to throw in my mix CD from the 90s, assuming we still have CD players in 20 years, and I want to crank that sonuvabitch until the speakers are ready to explode, and for a moment, for a passing relapse in an otherwise occupied life, more import than remembering what it was like to be 24 and young, I want to be 65 and free as an escaped kite, floating away under the sun, basking in the life I have lived.

My Ducks

So, way back in the day, when I was still using Facebook to publish my notes, I wrote about my ducks. Referencing a quote from A Lot Like Love, the idea was that you have to have priorities. First you get the job, then the car, then the girl, then the house, then the family, then it all makes sense. From A to B to C to Z, step by step. Planned. Coordinated.

So what I wrote about was not worrying about keeping my ducks in line. And I still 100% believe in that. There's no plan, no set way that I should live my life. If you're not flexible enough to welcome when a new duck enters your life, then you're setting yourself up for failure. This shouldn't be rocket science. I'm not a profit. I'm just explaining what is most logical.

But all that being said, I just turned in my signed and dated official contract that signifies the beginning of my first stint as a salaried employee. Ever. Up until this point, I've been an hourly employee at Linen N Things, my mom's company Gallagher Basset, my dad's company E.H. Wachs, worked part time for U of I, then came home and spent two and a half years as a contractor, filling out time sheets, working 40 hours, and always having a little asterisk next to my name in some way, highlighting that I'm not an official employee of the establishment in which I do my work.

So, back when I wrote, "Consistent, possibly stationary long term employment may be the first true mile marker in the journey of the rest of my life. Tentative check," well........ CHECK.

It may not be the first step, the lead duck, or whatever you want to call it, but for now, it's the most important one. And to this point, will stand as one of the most important things I've accomplished in my life.

People Who Stare At People

So how many times do you swing your head around and peer into the window of the car next to you while you're driving? Pretty much every car you pass? But as soon as that person returns the stare, you look away like they're a solar eclipse. Or how about sitting in a crowded restaurant, checking out every face and body that so much as flinches. Different venue, same result. As soon as their eyes make it back to yours, you jerk your neck faster than a crash test dummy hitting a wall at 60mph.

I am 100% guilty of this. I don't know if there's a vehicle that I pass, which is a lot, that I don't check out to see who is driving. If the person was driving like a jackass, I want to see what a jackass looks like. Or confirm that they are on their phone or doing their makeup. If the car is especially nice, I want to see what a rich person looks like. And going back to 'What Drives You,' I've already judged every car on the road as soon as I see it. So more than anything, I'm just looking for confirmation of my judgment. Or, ya know, that rare time where I'm just looking to see if it's a cute girl. But that's rare. Very rare.

The restaurant scene has a slightly different feel. I might notice someone's summer dress and want to see what she looks like. Or overhear a conversation and wonder what kind of jackass would say something so dumb. So I have to look and see what a jackass looks like. Or I notice some special or exotic drink being delivered. I want to see what the elitist people are doing out in public besides showing off their ability to order adventurous drinks. And then judge the shit out of them. So more than anything, I'm just looking for confirmation of my judgment. Or, ya know, that rare time where I'm just looking to see if it's a cute girl. But that's rare. Very rare.

But still, from checking out a cute girl to mentally judging the jackass to admiring someone with good taste in vehicles or style, the overwhelming majority of the population immediately changes their stare once the look is returned. At this point, it teeters on the edge of extreme training and human instincts. I say human because I have never known an animal to be too shy to stare at someone, even long after the stare is returned. Are we all just timid little scaredy cats (pun intended) that can't deal with the pressures of seeing someone's eyes? Or do we feel that our intentional look is in some way invading the personal air space of our target?

Well I find both options rather curious.

Are we just all scared? I mean seriously. I would hope that the majority of the people who read the first few paragraphs kinda nodded their head in agreement. So we all know what we all are doing. There are no secrets here. When I drive by your car, I am going to look into it. When you drive by my car, you will look into it. So why, when we meet eyes, is it like the two positive ends of a magnet. Can't, possibly, stay, looking, directly, at, each other. Arrgghhhhh!

And do you really feel like you're breaching the protective bubble that we all walk around with. Do you get the heebie jeebies when you notice someone staring at you? If so, why? Are you *that* self conscious? If we all realize that most people that are staring are just confirming their previously assigned judgment, why do we feel so violated when a set of eyes stays on us longer than a passing second? We need to relax a little. But our response is to judge the person judging us. 'Who is that person lingering longer than the society standard?' And the only thing that will stop that feeling is if that person is cute!

So let's make a decision together. Don't stop staring, stop caring. So someone is looking at you... take it as a compliment. Return the glance if you so choose, or if you even notice. It is not an invasion of privacy, it's just looking. You do it too. Let's get over this socially trained fear of a set of eyes on us and just realize there are more important things than the jackass staring at you from the next lane. Like figuring out if the next car has a cute driver! But only on rare occasions...

The Pale Blue Dot

"The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena...Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light."

This is a quote from Carl Sagan's book 'The Pale Blue Dot.' I first heard of this book as a one minute interlude song on a Story of the Year CD, and it struck me. It challenged some of my ideas about this planet and the people that occupy it. I was revisited by this book recently, watching a video that claims 'the world would be better if everyone watched this video.' And once again, I was impressed. I was moved, even.

Now, for the purposes of this post, I am strictly arguing against the quote I have previously stated. Though I believe that this is not taken out of context, rather, is a rather fair summary of this portion of the novel. So while I will be posing my 'counter-argument,' mind you, I still strongly encourage you to watch this video, if not to form your own option, at least to enjoy it for what its worth.

OK. So. Seeing the Earth from the rings of Saturn displays it only as a pale blue dot, and as Sagan describes, 'our planet would be just a point of light, a lonely pixel hardly distinguishable from the other points of light Voyager would see: nearby planets, far off suns.' But here's the deal, from a distance of 3.7 billion miles, I agree, we are insignificant. We blend in as a shell on Sanibel Island. And that perspective out shadows any war or peace, any hatred or love, any friend of foe. If you want to start counting stars and galaxies and planets and asteroids and every other bit of orbiting or stray matter that is floating somewhere in this existence, whether the light we're seeing is from eons ago or not, whatever, i get it, we're small.

They say it's all relative. So we're relatively small in comparison to the rest of time and space. A blip on the time line. A pale blue dot in space.

But the earth, relative to me, is on the verge of incomprehensibly big. The sun, is that much bigger than the Earth. Jupiter, is that much bigger than the sun. Earth's path around the sun, is that much bigger than Jupiter. Jupiter's path around the sun, is that much bigger than Earth's path around the sun. And the star, Betelgeuse, is bigger than that.

My mind cannot comprehend that. That is out of my mind's comprehension, and out of the things that impact my daily life, besides being able to spit out that little nugget while walking on a clear enough night to spot the constellation Orion. Break it down further, and the scale of things that do impact my daily life seems to dwindle. Now I completely understand the idea of a global economy, of the people, places, industries, environments, animals, jobs, and strategies that go into each moment of life, and how encompassed I am in that. But for me, the people, feelings, and personal impact on society is what drives my life.

So before I keep rambling and get off topic, relative to the rest of space, we are nothing, but relative to the rest of space, we are everything. To me, nothing exists outside of this planet. No life has spawned anywhere else, that we know of. This unique collaboration of rock, molten rock, metal, and water has come together to create the center of our universe. We are the center of the universe. Because what we do here impacts our lives. Aside from a stray asteroid taking out our planet, I'm going to say that we'll be the ones to destroy it.

Cuz like Sagan also appropriately describes, 'there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.'

So what do you think?

Lyrical Exaggeration

"Cause honestly the truth is that you know im never leaving
Cause you're my angel sent from above
Baby you can do no wrong"

- Justin Bieber - 16

"And even when we're miles and miles apart
You're still holdin' all of my heart
I promise it will never be dark
I know, we're inseperable"

- Jonas Brothers - 17, 20, 22

"Its like you took my heart and purposly tore it in two.
I Never knew what a person like you could do.
I dreamt and prayed through the nights that someday i would win back your love.
But this dream would only be if you loved me enough."

Miley Cyrus - 17

"Looking so innocent,
I might believe you if I didn't know
Could've loved you all my life
If you hadn't left me waiting in the cold"

Taylor Swift - 20


What am I missing? Millions of these artists' records are sold each year. Unbelievable pop sensations. Life of a Hollywood star before legally able to drink alcohol (Except that oldest Jonas brother. What a creep). And somehow they have all experienced deeper love and more painful heartache than I have, enough to write songs and songs and albums and albums about angels from heaven and heart-breaking liars?

Obviously, there's a market for this kind of music. Whether its middle school kids that believe each relationship will be their last, or college kids that use the overly sensitive lyrics to connect with their 'adult' problems, people are still buying this music, and, at some point, listening to and connecting with the lyrics. Yeah, because when I think of breaking up or falling in love, I want to hear what the newest teenage heart throb has to say on the subject.

But maybe it's a necessary evil. Truth is, I had to do a decent amount of searching to find these examples. Because the mind of a 17 year old works much different than the mind of an adult. I'm sure there are enough people in the world that can convey the strong feelings associated with matters of the heart in poetic and mature ways that would offer a comforting support or insightful guidance without needing the pride of teenagers in America filling our airspace. Ask me for examples. But what we fail to realize, after the initial retraction from these high school heroes, is that love and pain, obsession and misery, is all relative.

I remember sitting in my room for an entire weekend, listening to the same, angry, violent, turbulent CD on repeat, all because of a girl. Obviously the genre of my music differed a little, but still, to me, at the time, it was the most crushing thing that could have happened. But what was I? I was no one concerned with world problems, finding a job, maintaining an apartment, taking care of my family, or anything else that you might consider to be more important in the grand scheme of things. But hell, I was 16 years old and didn't know anything. Relative to my situation, this was it. This mattered more than the rest of the world.

So while these kittens and puppies are out there, *hopefully* writing their own music, maybe these gross exaggerations are warranted based on some sort of young love that they thought would last forever, even if any logical person would look at the success rates of high school romances and scoff at the idea. Maybe the less developed mind needs to hear from a less developed set of vocal cords that breaking up is the hardest thing you'll ever do. And maybe, when you see some 29 year old at the coffee shop listening to the newest thigh high teen tweeter, there is a connection between the over dramatization of emotional lyrics with the almost assured state that we all once found ourselves occupying at some point in our younger lives.

So, if the music either speaks directly to the kids of today, or connects the rest of us with our long forgotten childhoods, then can we ask the question whether it's really an evil at all?

And besides, do we really want the youth of this world listening to Celine Dion when it comes to matters of the heart?

The Pursuit of Autonomy

While at lunch today, we were discussing the different ways that different cultures eat. Every time I made mention of some action or habit that I use on a daily basis, someone would say, well in this culture, people eat like this. And in that culture, this is the norm. And when I explained something further, I would hear, well in this culture.... and so on this went. Then I got asked if the way I eat represents the U.S. way to eat, and my response was a quote from the movie, Stomp the Yard:

"I ain't reppin' nothing, just me." (DJ)

And the reason why this has any sort of significance to me today is because of a quote I stumbled on this morning:

"Passive acceptance of the teacher's wisdom is easy to most boys and girls. It involves no effort of independent thought...the habit of passive acceptance is a disastrous one in later life." (Bertrand Russell)

We are programmed to be mentally, physically, emotionally, inferior as we grow up. Mostly warranted, but as we progress from diapers to boxers and sand boxes to sand parties, we are conditioned to more or less blindly accept those above us (figuratively and literally) as teachers, leaders, and people to 'look up to.' So what does this blind acceptance do to us?

Well it leads to a lack of creative, independent pursuit of autonomy. Autonomy, referring to the "capacity of a rational individual to make an informed, un-coerced decision." (Wikipedia). And while autonomy is a key word in this idea, I believe creative might be more important. Simply forming an informed opinion might only lump you into a group with the other 49% of a minority. Just veering away from 'blind education' is only the beginning. I'm not saying that my way of eating was something inherently original or without precedence, but I took no advice or bias when I realized that eating small amounts of each dish at a meal interchangeably is not my preferred method. I'm more of an Independence Day alien war craft: Destroy something completely, move on the to the next biggest thing, and destroy the piss out of that too.

But the point is not to say that everything you do should be your own original brand. It's also not to say that your creative approach to something is the right way to do it. In fact, I'm pretty sure that some of my life theories or ideals that I've created on my own might not make the most sense. But at the end of the day, 'I'm reppin' me.' What I have built, what I believe in, who I trust, and any other decision that includes even the slightest bit of gray area, is me. Which is something that I can not only be proud of, but continue to grow and manipulate as I mature through life, keeping in mind that even the most surest of thoughts I've had might change in time.

And you'd be surprised how many 'areas of gray' you might find when you start turning over the rocks that line your path in life. Because, if I can end this with one more quote for you to ponder:

"In all affairs it's a healthy thing now and then to hang a question mark on the things you have long taken for granted." (Bertrand Russell)

Including those that we passively accepted at a young age.

These Things Matter

Rob Gordon: "...I agreed that what really matters is what you like, not what you are like... Books, records, films - these things matter. Call me shallow but it's the fuckin' truth."

And you wonder why I love High Fidelity so much, and how every time I watch it, I like it even more... So this is the concept I would like to explore a little.

So back in the day, when you wanted to get to know someone, you'd have to actually hang out, or maybe talk on the phone. As time went on, phone got replaced by AOL. Which got replaced my AIM. Which has now evolved into a slew of means of communication, many of which contain opportunities to build a profile. People use this for different reasons. Some of us choose to include the bare minimum of information, wanting to use the source as a networking tool without giving too much away. Others of us, the group that includes me, like to populate our profile with accurate, telling, in a way, defining responses and bits of information.

In the same way that a car is a moving, turning, accelerating billboard of you, a profile is a laid out, programmable, customizable advertisement for, well, you. These days, this is something that people might see before they ever meet you. This might be the second or third thing they have to judge you on after meeting you. But I'm not here to tell you that everyone should put a full description of who you are in every profile you ever create. But those of us who do make an attempt to give a selling depiction of who we are do so because we believe Rob Gordon makes a good point. 'Books, records, films - these things matter.'

I guess to be more specific, we'll talk about this in terms of dating compatibility.

I don't want to be with someone who likes everything that I like. I'm not even searching for that. So that's not the point. But your personality is reflected in so many ways.

Give me a list of your favorite movies, 1 through 20. Not 'well when I'm in this mood, I like to watch this' or 'define what genre' or any other distinction you would make when picking. List your movies. And I promise you, based on the list, I can supply a relatively accurate and possibly lengthy description of what kind of person you are. And I'm not special. So not only does this list of movies give an accurate portrayal of who are you, but if you compare it with someone else's list, side by side, you should be able to come to some pretty obvious conclusions. If one list is Billy Madison, Wedding Crashers, Old School, The Hangover, etc... and the other is Donnie Darko, Twilight, Crash, Good Will Hunting, etc... I mean I don't have to spell this out. When forced to rank, whatever kind of movie you value will seep to the top, and it will give away a piece of who you are, and will attract a certain kind of person.

Obviously, I'm not dumb enough to say if you only like comedy movies that you're not smart or interested in other things besides laughing. Again, that's not the point.

But if you can look at someone's interests and they tell you about who they are, and you can be relatively confident that your assessment has some sort of accuracy, you can then apply those traits to more aspects of their life. I'm NOT saying that having similar taste in movies is what matters most, but their taste in movies gives an example of how they approach life. It's not that you have to go to all of the same concerts, but for the most part (of course there are outliers), certain genres of music and certain artists lend themselves to certain personality traits of the fans. So all these little indications, based on things they like or value the most, piece together to create a relatively substantial image of a person. And, if you're someone that doesn't care about movies or music because the only scene you want to see is a natural waterfall and the only music you want to hear is the splashing water, then THAT gives away who you are. You cannot escape this.

When you break it down, you have to be compatible. And while you should have compatible personalities, your interests and cinematic preferences factor into that equation just as much as the clothes you wear or the car you drive. So, what's on your movie list?

Spring in Chicago

Last year around this time, I wrote about a spring state of mind and what that means living in Chicago. And as we approach Daylight Savings in 2010, I can't help but to get caught up in the wind gust that is a change of the season from winter to spring. But looking at it now, there is a significant part of this transition that is lost among the shuffle.

Tomorrow is projected to be 57 degrees. This is something to get excited about. But last night was a low of about 37. And it was *still* something to get excited about after spending the last 4-5 months living in Chicago. I know we're not the only city in the world that has shitty winter months of weather, but if your 'winter' rarely dips below 50, then you really have no idea what it's like. What it's like to walk out and get bum rushed by ice wind, to get into your car and not be able to touch your steering wheel because its too cold. What it's like to live in snow.

Everybody gets to look forward to spring and summer. It's a state of mind. Kids are out of school, summer festivals, concert tours, sun bathing, pool parties, and eeeeeeverything else that gets put in the box for winter storage. We are not special in that sense (even if I'd argue that summer in Chicago rivals any city). But the reaction of this city when the weather starts to break above freezing is uncanny. Maybe we know how special summer in Chi really is, so maybe we anticipate it more than the average 4-season city. Maybe our skins are a little thicker, so maybe a foggy, 37 degree night actually feels warmer to us than everyone else.

But whatever it is, we get to get excited for 40 degrees. And yes, eventually we'll be able to get excited for 50s and 60s and 70s and even 80s and 90s, but for now, 40 degrees is everything we could ask for. 40 degrees feels good. It feels like home. But yes, of course, it feels like a sign of things to come, which, for those of you that get to enjoy it, is well worth the wait.

What Drives You?

I see thousands of cars every day. Its staggering to think how many people drive every day. When you think about your family, your friends, the strangers you see on the road, does the car fit the person? When you imagine your perfect mate, the one from your dreams, what are they driving?

The car that you drive every day is one of the largest billboards that advertises who you are. Everything about the car you choose to drive reflects greatly on who you are as a person. Your clothes change all the time. Yes, you can find yourself comfortably exploring a certain style or trend, but your clothes are constantly changing for various reasons. Your car is there every single morning. The music you listen to, the movies you watch and love, the hobbies you take up, they are all giveaways for who you are, but they all tend to be more fluid than the vehicle that you drive.

Okay, so what you drive is a staple in your life, got it. So what? Well whether or not you realize it, every detail about your car tells another segment of the story that is you.

Color:

You didn't pick silver because you don't care about color. You probably picked silver because its the cheapest, most common color for a car. Black (standard? cool?), red (showoff? attention-craver?) , tan (conservative? boring?). They all mean something about your personality . And if you did pick it just because that was the color available so you figured you'd just go with it, then that says something about you. The color is the first thing people will notice about your car. Maybe you care about how dirty it will look, or how it will match your hair, whatever. There are many decisions you might make about the color of your car that will be indicative of you, and even a lack of a decision says something.

Make/Model:

Are you driving a sports car or sedan, SUV or car, automatic or stick shift? Do you need a minivan to accommodate your family, or are you single and loving it with two doors? Does all-wheel drive give you better handling through the corners? Would you rather be small and quick or big and comfortable? So you want the sport suspension or the luxury edition?

Really, I could go on and on about this. The seats, the audio package, the warranty, the wheels, the gas mileage, the logo, the price, the name. Whether you like it or not, you're car is an extension of who you are. The void of a decision still tells a tale. There are very few things in life that stand as a full representation of who you are. So next time you're driving down the road, stuck in traffic, eyes whipping between hundreds and hundreds of cars, ask yourself one question: What drives you?

Complacency, in E Sharp

I wish my parents had forced me to play the piano when I was younger. I love classical piano music. I love the idea of the piano. I wish I could walk into a room with a grand piano and be able to play Claire De Lune. What a cool hidden talent that would only surface on rare occasions. And what a shame that I couldn't have allowed my passion for baseball to take a step down every once in a while to squeeze in something new.

So I'm left with what? The ability to throw 70MPH when I see one of those radar gun games at the ballpark? Absolutely. Which is awesome. But with no other true childhood passions or even hobbies, well my repertoire seems to be lacking.

But why do you have to learn this stuff when you're a kid? What am I waiting for?

We as adults tend to fall into this habit of complacency. Forgive me for generalizing. Obviously, there are those of us that enroll in classes after a 40th birthday, or finally take art lessons before a vacation touring museums. But the majority of us just figure that we're now playing with the hand that we were dealt. So let's just make the best of what we got and see if we can't create some sort of happiness.

I wasn't forced to take piano lessons when I was younger, I have never been too musically inclined, and I was definitely not blessed with the most slender and agile fingers, but if playing the piano is something that I wish I could do, then why don't I go learn? What is one night a week? Just a couple of hours of practicing instead of facebooking and TVing. Frankly I would welcome the change of pace, while also getting out of it something I've, at least recently, dreamed to be able to do well. So why the hesitation? Why didn't this come up until right now?

I may be talking about hobbies and talents for the focus of this, but realistically, this can be applied justifiably across the board. If you don't like your profession, what are you waiting around for? If you wished you wore different clothes, drove a different car, decorated your house in a different way, but somewhere along the line, whether because of financial reasons, or because of a fear of change, you've stayed stagnant, then you're just living in a safety net. And I tell you what, speaking from seemingly eons of experience, playing it safe can only get you so far.

Tony Hoagland once wrote, 'As long as there is desire, we will not be safe.' And I bring that up now to say that as long as you have the desire to change, to experience, to do whatever it is that you're not doing now, then that portion of your life is not safe. But if you let that desire dwindle into nothing more than a fading fantasy, one never challenged or tested, then you're doing nothing else besides trapping yourself in the softest, most deceiving bars of a jail cell that you can imagine. They might never hurt you, but they will never let you out. The day you look at your life as something that you won't change, as happy or as miserable as you might be at that moment, that's the day where you forget what it means to live.

Complacency is a plague. Avoid it at all costs.

Our Own Personal Jade

A while back I wrote about the impossible scenario of unbiased feelings towards another individual. It was called Rhetorical Romance. I still 100% agree with this idea. But why I applied it solely to the matters of the heart, there is where I have lost myself and underestimated this thought strand. Is it possible to be unbiased about anything? Is it possible to have absolutely no outside factors influence your thoughts or opinions on a subject?

I mean, let's think about this logically before we think about it theoretically or philosophically or any other way you can think about something. The majority of us are raised by our parents. Before we even have thoughts, our parents are influencing our behavior, likes and dislikes, postures, reactions, and any other relatively instinctual response we can have at a young age (I have no scientific proof of this, mind you). So going into the world, growing up, you are looking through the lens of your parents. This cannot be argued.

But Chris, what if you completely reject your parents thoughts and beliefs and create your own structure of ideas. Well, kindly interested person, how did this person think to reject everything their parents instilled in them? Hmmm? Something from the 'outside world' taught them and conditioned them to break away from the confines of the house they were raised in.

This simple thought is the idea behind this whole rambling. In order to free your thoughts from someone or something else's viewpoint, there has to be another force that is pulling you. These days, I can look at something that doesn't make sense and reject it. I can look at, say, someone driving 50 mph in the left lane during light traffic and say NO!, I don't care if that is 'more safe,' it doesn't make sense. You would think, because I'm a logic-based thinker, that I am making a decision based on nothing but my thoughts and beliefs. But really, I've conditioned myself over my lifetime, I've allowed myself to be persuaded by logic, and I've opened my thought structure to those ideas much more than things like 'safety.'

So I am biased before I even approach the scenario. Maybe because of how I was raised. Or maybe because of what I learned in school. Or maybe some deuchebag in high school used to wear Nikes, so I look down on others that do the same. There could be a 10 year disconnect between my initial encounter with the jading medium, but it's still there. And as much as you change and adapt, all you're doing is replacing old skewers with new ones that will grow to reinforce something else. It's a constantly evolving sphere of influences that consciously or subconsciously impacts everything you are exposed to.

I guess my point is, you can never, ever look at something new and think about it abstractly, without any previous influence having an effect. It is impossible. What does this mean? Well it means the same thing as comparing what we see against what color blind people see. The world appears different to each person. We are all instinctively individual. We all have been layered with lenses and filters and screens that dictate how we receive the world. And this, more than personality, more than physical appearance, more than money or class or education, but this is what will always distinguish us from one another. Our own personal jade.

Young and Prepared?

If you were 13 years old, and you had the chance to obtain the wealth of knowledge that you currently possess, would you? Not necessarily educationally (meaning you wouldn't just ace every test), and it's not your experiences that carry over (so you don't already know who does and doesn't like you, etc.), so I guess let me clarify.

I was, to a certain point, socially inept in junior high and high school. So my thoughts on this topic relate to the idea of being able to have the social skills of a 25 or a 35 year old, and insert them into your life as a pimple-faced, fashionably-challenged teenager. And this is where this conversation takes a turn for me.

Of course I would not want to relive the last 10-15 years of my life. That's not the point. You don't get a do-over. But think back to those 'discovery days' of your youth. Would you have rather been equipped with calm nerves, relaxed confidence, and an arsenal of tips, tricks, moves, and weapons? I guess this question only really applies to those of us that were...... less successful when it comes to these types of scenarios, but I still like the idea enough to try to get some thoughts out on it.

This all came about after watching a Two and a Half Men episode in which Charlie, the gun slinging ladies man, coaches his nephew at his first boy/girl party. With a tool belt filled with the right tools, (not so) little Jake successfully gets some alone time with the smart, apparently cute girl from his class. So basically, the knowledge and 'skill set' of a man that has gone through all ups and downs of dating throughout the years is transferred to someone that is on the very edge of that landslide. And I can't help to think what shape my life mural would currently take if those were the same circumstances that I was faced with. Especially since I was a much more competent 13 year old than Jake acts to be.

But when I look back over the course of time when I started noticing girls and finding my place in the social world, and I see the missed opportunities, missed connections, I'm not sure where it leaves me. One side of me is eternally curious about every situation in my life than never panned out because of my inexperience, tentativeness, or lack of confidence. This is something that eats at me more frequently than it should. The other side is still genuinely happy with my current life, so to want to change anything from my past would be foolish.

So I guess, at the end of this disjointed thought strand is the very obvious conclusion: this question makes no sense. If you're not actually given the opportunity to re-live those years, and you're only gaining a very specific pamphlet of knowledge, then this hypothetical is completely unrealistic and useless. Fine. But does anyone else wonder what their life would be like if you would have just slow danced with that girl in 7th grade instead of claiming you don't know how to dance, not realizing all you really have to do is waddle back and forth? Or where they would be right now if they had just grabbed someone hands and pulled them in for a kiss instead of cracking a joke and trying to get out of a situation where you were nervous?

I wouldn't exchange any of my 'failed' experiences if it meant I wasn't exactly where I am today, but hell, I'm damn curious what my life would have been like. Or at least curious what it would have been like to experience some of those chances I tossed away.

And to bring this back to my thoughts on 2009, maybe this is why every year of my life is better than the previous. I don't look back at high school as the best 4 years of my life. I don't look back at college as the best 4 years of my life. And maybe that is because for the last 12-15 years, each year I learn a little more, I experience a little more, and at the end of the day, I am a more complete person.

But a kid can wonder.

Shedding Skin

For anyone that knows me well, going-into-college-me was very different than coming-out-of-college-me. There were classes, teachers, and very close friends that not only changed the way I approached life, but changed the way I thought about life, the way I thought about the people in my life, and the new path that I wanted my life to go down. This sort of grandiose, multilevel change happens to most people. The timing can fall over a broad range of dates, but the general idea of a life-altering and course-switching decision usually comes up at least once. Why?

Well, because we are agents of education. We have been programmed to learn, adapt, evolve, and be educated about anything from algebra to hopscotch, guitars to knitting, parenting to dying. Everything we encounter is viewed as an opportunity to learn, whether we know it or not. So the more we learn, about situations, about people, about feelings and emotions, and about everything else that goes into the intricacies of life, the more we are able to manipulate and contort our lives to better fit into the construct that our minds have rebuilt. The conscious decision to make a change, at the human level, should be considered as an evolution, or else, what are the reasons you are changing if not to do something better?

So there's no doubt that most, if not everyone in this world takes what they've learned from books, people, and their experiences and at some point, sheds the skin of who they once were and becomes someone new. This could be someone that decides to take over life and get back in shape, pitching bags and bags of clothes in order to rediscover a new person. Or it could be someone that is sick of a dead-end job and chooses to get and stay motivated for a more fulfilling job. Or just someone that realizes the right way to treat people and believes in a more respectable way of living. Forgive me for sighting cliches, but it was my attempt to explain how these large changes can come in so many different shapes and sizes that it's almost hard to lump them into the same pile.

Though it's interesting that I used the phrase shedding skin, as it will provide me the launch board I need to reach my point. Can we ever really change? Am I nothing more than a better trained, better educated, better articulated, better groomed version of who I was 5 year ago? 10 years ago? 15 years ago? That high flying exec that used to be a lazy pothead... are they different to the core? Or did they just shed the dreads and start wearing suits, creating the mirage of successful business person?

I don't really have an answer. I started this because I realized, even after my transitions and achievements since high school, deep down, I'm not too different of a person. Sure, clothes, attitude, outlook, and a slew of other things have changed, but anyone who got to know me 10 years ago would probably argue that I'm not so different from the kid they grew up with. Maybe because we all have been growing up together, so it's less noticeable. Maybe my parents or grandparents would be able to say that my change has been more severe. Who knows. But I'm pretty sure that the depth of my 'change' or 'evolution' in my life will never erase who I was growing up, and there are deep seeded and strong-willed fragments of my 'soul' that will always remain present.

So when I hear something like, 'You can't change who people are without destroying who they were,' I guess I believe that. I can't truly change who I am, because I'll never be able to destroy who I was. Destruction is only possible in extreme or fantastical situations, both of which have not been present in my life. I'm not sure what the next 1-60 years of my life will bring, but without a large, stratospheric event, I don't see myself becoming anything more than a wrinkled, weathered, worn down version of the same tree-climbing, hot wheels loving, movie watching, writing, dancing, pitching, loving, caring, and genuine person that I spent my early years becoming. And I'm very okay with that.

Temporary Life

I recently heard someone say that we're all just here, living a temporary life. Temporary life meaning that this wasn't the first stop on our trip, and this won't be our last. That there are places to go after we die, so just bide our time, because there's a lot more to this ride than you can comprehend.

Sorry?

Let me preface this by saying that I'm not here to tell you that you're your beliefs, morals, or the ways you live your life are wrong. I don't have the answers, I have never claimed to. And even the strongest of my arguments has a second ear to listen to the other side, because at any moment, I could be as wrong as I claim my opposition is. So if all I accomplish with this post is to help you inspect your habits and actions to a degree that you're not used to, then I consider it a success. You might find out that what you have set up for yourself is exactly what you believe is the right thing to do, so all this did was reinforce it. Or you might find some areas that could use a tweak, so all you had to do was steer the bow a touch. I don't plan on overhauling any lives with this.

Getting back to this point, the point of believing that this life, the life we lead until we die, is just a skipping stone. If you want to call this a temporary life because it's, well, not permanent, I'm all for it. But, if this is just a means to the ends, if you live this life on the theory or guess that there is an afterlife, and that your only goal is to make sure you're on the right track to a prosperous and delightful eternity, then you have to be missing out on something. I'm not one to say whether there is or is not an afterlife. Really, I, like everyone else currently alive, has no idea. No matter how much faith you have, or research you've done, or any other means of formulating an opinion, no one has anything more than a guess as to what happens to us when we die. Would I like to believe that there is an afterlife? Sure. Do I? That's harder for me to admit.

But what I can admit is simple: there is a real life. There is a today. And for most people in the world, there is a tomorrow. I am 24 years old, and hopefully, if I can keep this up, I have about another 60 years of my life left. And in the same way that the boys from Dazed and Confused wanted to walk away knowing they got the most out of their time spent at Robert E. Lee High School, I want to get the most out of this life. This current, human interaction, blood can be shed, feelings can be felt, real life that we are all experiencing.

The problem with me writing about this, is there is a disconnect between what constitutes the path of afterlife. I agree, thinking in extremes, it would be worse to 'enjoy' this life and spend eternity in hell compared to 'sacrificing' this life and spending eternity in heaven. Given the two scenarios, it's fairly obvious which one we would all pick. But would you put all your chips down on a 50/50 bet? Because no matter how much faith you have, or scientific proof there is, there's nothing more to tell any of us that all we're doing is guessing.

So for me, to sum up my reason for writing this little post, I want to play with my chips. What we have here is real, if nothing else. If I spend my life sacrificing the very things that I believe I would enjoy, then I am taking such an enormous risk. To risk everything based on a belief that holds zero substantial proof is plausibly insane. Nothing matters more than the people you interact with on a daily basis. No one matters more than the people that love you. And nothing is worth the sacrifice of neglecting the essence of what it means to be alive in order to satisfy a belief of an imaginary eternal bliss with absolutely zero physical evidence.

This may be a temporary home, but never forget that this is a home while you are here, so take every opportunity to make it a home worth living in, not just a stepping stone to something you deem might be better.

2009: A Brief Retrospective

While I breach my one year anniversary with this experiment I refer to as From Shore to Pschorr, it conveniently corresponds to those 12-month spans that we call years. I know I don't like to compartmentalize time in things like years, but for the sake of this post, I just want to share a few thoughts on 2009.

You know in Office Space when Peter describes how every day is the new worst day of his life? That could not be farther from the truth for me. Every year of my life has been better than the previous year. 2009 was the best year of my life. I'm not saying that every day was better than the previous, but as a whole, I am truly pleased with how well the year went. A year working the same job. A year driving the same car. A year living on my own. Escaped to Wisconsin twice, Ft Lauderdale once, and painted New York City for the first time, which is still surreal to me. I met new people. Stayed connected with old friends. Even managed to date a girl or two.

Overall, I am more of a complete self than I have ever been. I am closer to figuring out who I am and moving forward with a purpose. The first 6 months of 2006 started a change in my life that is unrivaled, and every segment of time since then has been a reinforcement of the direction my life is going. I am confident in who I am and what I believe in. I am in the best shape of my life. I have the closest friends that I can remember. There have been so many memorable nights that I can't even begin to list them all. Let's just say I have 978 pictures saved in 29 different folders from 2009 alone. So to all my friends that were with me for those days and nights, thank you.

We rocked last year.

Bridges

A bridge is burned, and all that is left is ashes. Can it ever be rebuilt? If it is rebuilt, can it ever be the same? We spend most of our lives building up and tearing down bridges, constantly changing the connections we have between the people around us. We meet new people and forget about old ones. Some people are able to build more and more, while others have to torch one before something new can be erected. And throughout the course of time, we spend more time riveting steel and suspending wood, swinging wrecking balls and lighting fires than most cities.

The idea of a burned bridge is something a little more serious than just drifting away from people you were once close with. There are hundreds of people that, over the course of the last 12 to 15 years, I have, at some point, established a relationship with, whether it was someone I sat next to everyday or someone whose hand I held late at night. So while the depth of these relationships vary across the board, not all of them have made it to the present. (See Save the Date). But I can't classify anyone no longer close to me as falling into a disconnected abyss, bridge after bridge collapsed and destroyed. I would more or less put them in a group of simply abandoned and unkempt bridges. Ones strewn with moss and vines, ones that, while may look like the path of most resistance, or the scary, dark, wooded fork in the road, the bridge is still standing. And with a little maintenance, can once again burden the weight of constant tread.

A burned bridge means someone carried the torch and severed the ties. Someone set off the fuse. Lit the match. The disconnect that ensues is motivated. Someone is making an active decision to remove a presence, a presence that is no longer welcome. And what does this accomplish?

Well, if that presence constantly negatively affects your daily life, then remove it. If that presence physically hurts you, from hitting, from not eating, from not sleeping, from self-inflicted pain, then remove it. If that presence creates an atmosphere non-conducive to a healthy life style, then remove it. Anything along these lines, then there stands a bridge that should be demolished. For this, one less connection is a good thing.

But aside from that, from seriously damaging figures that you come in contact with, is there any real reason to knock out the support of something that brings people together? There are people that have done things that I don't agree with, and people that haven't treated me well, and people that have lied to me, and deceived me, and people that have ignored me, and forgotten me, and there are people that for the most part, don't really deserve my best effort, my compassion, my presence in their lives. But is any of that enough to truly allow me to turn my back if a situation in the future calls for confrontation, commitment, or common conversation? Have any of them wronged me to the point of no return?

I take bridges very seriously. It takes a lot for me to start swinging at the bricks beneath the bridges that connect me to the rest of the world I know. Because a bridge that has crumbled will never look the same. It might serve the same purpose, and someone can still walk from one side to the other, but arched or suspended, those that walk across will always be reminded of the rubble below. The shattered cement blocks and singed wood splinters will forever decorate the landscape below.

Moss can be trimmed. Dust can be swept. Dirt can be cleaned. Vines can be removed. But the history of a crumbled bridge can never trimmed or swept or cleaned or removed. Think twice before you detonate.

My Resolution...

So the new year is here. New day, week, month, year, and decade, all here at once. And the beginning of a new year is a chance for people to say yes, today is the day for change. They can raise their glass high as the ball descends on midnight, and when they wake up in the morning, things will be different. Writing two different numbers at the end of the date will transition your bad habits and lazy attitudes into feats of valor. You dug down deep, found what really needed to change in your life, or, just something that you wanted to change, and you found the courage to force your life into an upward spiral, freeing yourself from the shackles of your former self to emerge on the other side only to say, 'Here I am, and I am a better person than I was last year. You'll see.'

Okay maybe I over-glamorized this idea, but doesn't it kind of seem foolish when you lay it out that way? I mean, we're so caught up in defining and classifying things that we forget that life isn't just simply divided into perfect, equal sections. But somehow when it comes to personal change, the numbers on the calendar have to flip before we take it seriously. So what it's important to you now wasn't important to you in December? Then how important is it? Did you think of something in October and think, 'ya know, that seems like a good life decision. But I'm going to wait for a new year before I implement this into my life, otherwise I won't follow through?' Then what does that say about your desire to change in the first place? Are you just doing it because it seems like the right thing to do, even though you don't believe in it? If at any point in your life, you realize there needs to be a change in your life, then every day you put it off is a waste. A lie. A deceit of your own mind. And convincing yourself that a necessary change can be set aside for another day might be one of the greatest tricks someone can play on them self.

I'm not saying I'm against resolutions. Yeah it might piss me off that I have to wait for a treadmill because 90,000 people decided that 2010 is the year they'll get in shape, for a month, but I like the idea of people making their life, their body, and their state of mind a better and healthier place. I like seeing out of shape people in the gym. At least it shows they are trying. And I like seeing people skipping the doughnut aisle at the grocery store. Or sending out thank you notes to people they may have wronged. Or any other small or large change in someone's life that has a positive impact on the world. Donating to a charity. Helping someone train for a marathon. Volunteering once a month. Changing your perspective on life to have an optimistic outlook. All of it are steps in the right direction.

I just encourage everyone to take the necessary strides for a better life on a Tuesday in June or the 5th of March or the last weekend in October, because positive change is something that should never be delayed. Let your own self-motivation drive you. If you don't have any, then there's where you need to start resolving. Until then, save New Years for champagne and bowl games, let the changes take place as they come.