Grey Area Defcon 3

For all my love of learning, acquiring and assimilating information, I have lately found myself in an odd place. It has tainted my job performance, my ability to write music, my concern over the country's future, my play-writing sensibilities; everything. And that place I call the Grey Area.

Politically, I'm a simple liberal. I have no doubt which party best represents my world view and anxiously follow the electoral college projections and various other polls. And, while I am heartened by the strong possibility of an Obama administration, I am, for the first time, deeply disheartened by the vast ugliness that has surfaced from both campaigns - although ultimately I have to give the title to the Republicans. This time around, there is no swift-boating; there's accusations of Obama being Muslim or an Arab or related to a terrorist because of a very unusual middle name. There's people carrying stuffed monkeys with Obama stickers on them; there's people putting on Ayers as if a "washed up terrorist" (McCain's words) is remotely relevant now or, worse, more important than domestic and international policy. And yet these morons who chant 'terrorist' really believe that. And they really live in the same country. And they don't mind splitting the country in two. The only thing they don't do is use the word they all seem to want to: nigger.

And that distresses me. It angers me, certainly, but it saddens me far more than it pisses me off. It actually trumps the shame I felt when word of torture came out a few years back. And that pulls me out of the whole process. I can't be that polar to support beating up or congratulating either side.

And, here on the myspace front, there was a blog that I participated in until a few weeks ago. It was often referred to as 'the atheist blog' written by a faceless fellow called Human Evolution. Not only am I liberal, but I'm an atheist on top of it, y'see. I met quite a few friends there - more on the non-believing side than the believing side, but smart people on both sides. And then it got wacky and polarizing. Whereas I like to contribute humor wherever I can, I do not discriminate. Both sides need to have stabs of funny. But somewhere along the line, at least three fundamentalist atheists got whacked out entirely, worse than any religious people I had engaged with. There was no room for moderation, and so I just quit.

And at work, there's a secretary who talks to herself all day and swears constantly. Today's ringer was 'if he makes me do that again, I'll cut his balls off.' For a year, I endured her garbage. Finally, I complained. The very next day, she listened quite closely to me, took a comment out of context, and complained about me. She got a phone call. I got a phone call. And so I give up there, as well. Justice, even in the workplace, seems to be far more of a polarized myth than I wanted to believe.

In the theater world, I have been approached by someone looking for direction on how to get into theater. Why did she want to be an actor, I asked. Because, she said, I am good looking.
Occasionally, I can muster enough focus to put together a video or two, which I am glad to do. I so enjoy making people laugh, or at least say aloud, "oh no that is wrong," as my girlfriend did for my Steven Hawking video. It was a nothing bit of nothing, but I enjoyed it. Naturally, one of my oldest friends has to pipe up and say he came up with the idea years ago. Thanks, pal. You're the best.

I'm tired.

Commuter Blues

In my day, I am most reflective and contemplative during my commute to and from work. It's at these times where I can really just think, with no work or creative or personal obligations to snap at the heels of my thoughts. Unfortunately, at the very moment I can really have some great thoughts, there's people all over the damn place.

I don't know where they come from. But they are almost always in my way.Well, no, I think they are in my way, but they are not really in my way. For all I know, I am in their way. Well, no. I'm not in their way. They are definitely in mine.

The people I'm talking about are the ones waiting for the train on the platform, and when the train arrives, they stand not to the side of the door - you know, so people can get off the train - but directly in front of it. In the city the size of Chicago, with millions of people travelling to a central location every day, how do you not know that if you let people get off a train, you can get on faster? Apparently, it's possible, as every day, there's the same dead-eyed wonders standing in front of the train doors at the Clark and Lake station, seemingly unaware that people do things such as disembark.

If you're one of these people, please believe that I mean no offense. But shoot yourself. You would be doing the economy a favor - and at the moment, it needs as many favors as it can get.I'm all about structure and respect when it comes to lots of people walking around. Escalators = stand on the right, pass on the left. Like roads. Hallways = walk on the right. Like, you know, roads. Now, the people I run into in the morning are literally the people I run into in the morning. These brain stems must think that every bit of pavement is their personal Autobahn, and routinely I have to brace myself with 'football shoulder' just so I'm not knocked around like a pinball.

My three defenses: (1) Cigarette. No one will bump into you if they notice you have a small amount of fire at the end of your hand. I generally don't smoke on the street; but I do light a cigarette. (2) Cell phone. People don't like people who walk and talk on their cell phone; they are repulsed (because the conversations are always so woefully uninteresting) and so they move out of the way. If you see me on the street with my cell phone, chances are I'm not talking to anyone at all. I'm just walking in a straight line. (3) Tourist. I pretend to be a tourist sometimes, and will look up at the big ol' buildings. People won't run into you if you're looking away. Like wild animals, eye contact is a challenge to do battle. So I don't make any. So if you see a guy not smoking, not talking on his phone, or not looking at anyone, come up and say hi. I probably won't hear you, but I will appreciate the effort.

By the time I get to work or home, I am a defensive, miserable ball of neuroses. And I have forgotten all manner of contemplation or reflection that I had achieved. Like a dream after you wake up, my wisdom just fades into non-memory.

And I wonder what went wrong.