Cam said something inspiring (and rather flattering) to me the other day.  We were talking about how it’s been hard to hang out now that we’re no longer roommates and Cam said he’d adopted the strategy of always saying yes when I proposed doing something.  It was an excellent ego boost in that I appreciate that we’ve achieved that level of friendship where hanging out is a priority, but more importantly it dropped my mind into thought.

My default operating mode tends to be more oriented toward avoidance of pain than pursuit of pleasure.  I’m generally pretty happy, so if I can cut out the bad things I stay that way.  Sadly, avoidance of pain is not always an option (read: unemployment is not an option).  Lately, this is where I have found myself.  Many things are going wrong that I cannot avoid: Lorin is moving to Boston, my job sucks, I’m physically broken, and broke.  These are to a large extent, though not completely, beyond my control.  What I can do has been done, the problem persists.

For a while there I was feeling very helpless.  Problems you can’t solve will do that, so I’m told.  Cam, however, reminded me that I do have a large degree of control over the positive that I am not exerting enough.  Seeking out the good things in life, specifically climbing, writing, biking, and friends, is something I neglect too often.

Over the weekend, when we were losing our minds in the Eastern Sierra, it clicked.  Ironically, while in the process of realizing Cam’s wisdom I didn’t actually hang out with him that much.  However, I did a lot of what I wanted to do which was drink, bowl, watch a mule parade, climb, bullshit, shoot and be loud, not necessarily in that order.  Now I feel great.  Pursuing my desires to the fullest makes me happy and, as dumb as it sounds, sometimes I need to be reminded of that.

So, I’m now in the mode of not saying no.  I’m going to try to do more things which I want to do, which starts with saying yes all the time.  Yes to hanging out.  Yes to bike rides.  Yes to camping trips.  Yes to climbing.  Yes, yes, and more yes.

Let’s hang out.

Life just doesn’t seem that good right now; the overall architecture is wrong.  There’s too much work and not enough friends; too much worrying and not enough self improvement.  There is definitely too much “poor me” and a great lack of community.  The bigger picture is dreary indeed.

The building blocks are there, however.  Wake up with a beautiful woman, water the garden, enjoy how much cooler it is in the back yard.  Running water is soothing to the just awoken ear.  A hot shower and comfortable shoes, Fluevogs, well worn.  Read the news on the bus.

Downtown Oakland is beautiful.  A city struggling to pull itself out of the past, it brings the decent and wise looking civic design of the fifties with it.  The wind kicks up on 12^th, cools my head.  A cup of coffee.  Two cups of coffee.  Good Mexican food, very good barbeque, and great Thai.  The Fox, the Paramount.  Sitting in Preservation Park with a friend and a to-go box, looking at the sky bridge in the Ronnie D building.

Walk by Alexander’s market on the way to Great Western; Alex says hello.  At the gym, lots of gym friends, shared space and common interests.  A slow warm up to soothe the tendons and then lost in 4s, 5s, and 6s. Chalk and sweat run together like milk.  Nervously crush chalk blocks while waiting.  Another hot shower.  Maybe a bike ride.

Music; today Mastodon.  Tomorrow, who knows.  Wander shirtless around the house.  Greens from the garden for dinner with a side of anticipation; garlic harvest soon.  Cribbage.  The dreaded double double and fours in the count.  Planning, always planning.  Mark the winner, write a to-do list.  Two cups of tea and more news.  Fall asleep with a sweet kiss and a hot body.

It’s all there, every day.

Please stop making me feel bad about myself.

I'm not a loser, by any stretch, but you make me feel like one when you keep being better than everyone else.  I know you're not trying to make me feel like a useless sack of meat, but you do.  First, you are the most useful part of my day, from reader to gmail to googcal, and now you're going to save the world from global warming.  You even quoted Lord Kelvin in the process, Lord fucking Kelvin, so that I could feel like I was an uneducated asshole, in addition to being an energy inefficient asshole.

In conclusion, please continue to save the world, just find a way to do it that doesn't make me seem pathetic in comparison to your elegant simplicity and ruthless effectiveness.  You're Google, I'm sure you can figure out how to do that.

Yours truly and forever,
Collin

The 5 AM commute crowd is hardcore. At an hour much better suited for sleeping, these individuals are piloting cars, trucks and white service vans at ludicrous speed. We’re all slaves to the punch card, but if you really want to see what a cog in the machinations of industry looks like then you ought to hop on 580 some weekday before the sun comes up. The drivers are, to a man, with the program and my god they can merge. Everyone goes 20 over the posted limit, the right lane is for merging and the left lane is for someone going much faster than you. Should you fail to closely adhere to these guidelines, it’s clear those passing have nothing but disdain for you and your car. They seem to say, “Shouldn’t you be waiting for the 7 o’clock amateur hour?”

While all commuters “could get to work in their sleep,” these drivers do. Looking at them, nine out of ten are slumped back into their chair, low riding in an economy car. That tenth driver is perched atop his steering wheel like there is no place he’d rather be. Watch out for that guy. Highway cops are noticeably absent. This herd doesn’t get in accidents; they’ve got places to be. Why would the law interfere?

A breed apart, being among the 5 AM veterans feels very foreign. Their ranks include the 6 to 2ers who loath the 9 to 5ers, the long haul commuters coming in from the Valley, tradesmen and the darkness workers who just finished a grave shift and want nothing more then to get home. Most don’t go to Starbucks because coffee isn’t a “drink;” it’s a utility.

The freeways aren’t as busy in the early morning as they were two, three years ago. When the economy nosedives, who gets the chop? Construction workers, small retailers, service workers; the kind of people who have to be at work before 6. The demographic is shifting toward office dwellers, too. Seems they need to work longer hours to earn their keep, hence my presence. For sixty years the freeway has been the turf of the American worker and it’s changing. With the decline of the middle class, freeways are becoming the home of those rich enough to drive and the working poor who don’t have another option. The Interstate system used to be a metaphor for economic mobility. I don’t think the metaphor changed, it’s just not true anymore.

With no warning, I was overtook with a desire to go back to the Hamptons. Nostalgia, a feeling I'm neither familiar nor comfortable with, forced me to find the beach from my memory on google maps.  It's here, Shinnecock County Park West.  In my mind the weather is perfect and the colors are more vibrent than words do justice.  There are only a few people on the beach and if you walk a bit, there's no one.  I explain to everyone that the water is warm because the Atlantic current is bringing up water from the Gulf of Mexico.  It's Monday.  I have no responsibilities and a rental car.

This rushing break from reality lasts about fifteen seconds.  Afterward, an equally powerful sadness creeps in.  I'm here and will remain here.  I don't know when I'll be able to go to New York next.

Holy hell, Google has done me in. I’m finished. I’ve been shook loose the productive coil. Google Reader is the name of my demise.

If you don’t use it, start. If you do, well good.

It may be time to crawl back inside and hunker down.  The outside world is becoming too cumbersome and the internal too hostile.  I'm going to write up a cease fire and go North.

In conversation with one of the principles, he mentioned his “ex-wife.” He’s told me stories about her before, but she was Bonnie or “my wife.” Now he was retelling some stories I’d heard before to a client saying “ex-wife.” He looked enthusiastic about the story but there was some hesitation in his voice, as though he had a flash of insight where it dawned on him that she really is his ex.

It was a sad moment.

The client responded with a similar story, also about his ex-wife, also with a touch of melancholy in his voice. It was subtle, but it felt so personal to have two very accomplished businessmen acknowledge this loss they shared, however distantly.

On the way out, RD, the client, asked about my Christmas plans, “You have a family, kids?” Instantly, I was 18 again being asked what I want to do with my life. “I’m going to hold off for a while on kids. I’m just going to see my parents.” He said it was wise to do so and again I got the feeling that there was more in his words than he let on.

Recounting these exchanges, I remember details that make it feel so much more surreal. We were in a brine shrimp processing plant. I’d just met the client that day. The wall paper was a hideous floral print from the 60s or 70s. We were making jokes about baby mice that were individually wrapped to preserve freshness. That list sounds more like a bad telling of a dream than a negotiation with the Feds, which it was.

Life is so weird.

http://menwholooklikeoldlesbians.blogspot.com/

Wow.  Just wow.

Hello Bay Areans,

I was reminded today that over 50% of Bay Area CO2 emissions come from ground travel, cars, trucks, buses, etc.  Residential use of natural gas is next in line, accounting for something near 12%.  Residential electricity use tips the scales at 5% (numbers from the Association of Bay Area Governments).

Simply put, please do something about climate change: drive less, use less natural gas.  There are a plethora of things you can do to make an impact, but in the Bay Area you'll have the biggest impact if you:

• Drive less (the big one)
• Take shorter showers
• Do laundry with warm or cold water instead of hot
• Insulate your water heater (wrap a blanket around it)