is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.
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Gett Off? Shake Your Body Down To The Ground?
Gett Off? Shake Your Body Down To The Ground?
That's me on the top of Sand Mountain, last summer, a very hard climb. I like the way the photo makes it look so easy.
Tonight I went out, and, though I had a very good time, still, some things were odd. For instance, it is odd to find yourself at a club where DJs are competing to play only the songs of Michael Jackson and Prince all night. Ha! And, apparently, beyond the obvious flaws such an evening might have, many other things were wrong, even though I wouldn�t have noticed them on my own. So, now I�m home at 12:29 pm after having discussed these wrongs and many other topics thoroughly with Heidi and Liz.
There were funny Prince and MJ masks laying around, and the music was what you�d expect, and the people were of the entertaining San Francisco variety. I was ready to stick it out until the bitter (but not so late, for me) end. (Closing time in SF is 2am.) But at some point Liz and Heidi both became official critics of various aspects of the evening. I suspect Liz was tired and anxious about traveling the next day, but she said she didn't like the music. Ha! Liz loooooves Prince. So I pointed out that we had left at precisely the moment when the music would have been best (the last hour or so of the evening). Heidi added: �That DJ missed some opportunities.� Also true. But I also felt like some point was being missed within the overall conversation. Not being certain exactly what the point of such an evening would have to be, I let it go. But I'm still thinking about it.
Perhaps everyone needs to live in Amherst, MA, for a year. Or perhaps I'm too easily entertained!
Of this be certain: I do not mean to disparage my good friends L and H at all. Not only are they smart and foxy, but they are right. The DJs� timing and mixing could have been MUCH better. They actually managed to LOSE a crowd, more than once, while playing only Prince and Michael Jackson. Can you imagine such a thing?
This may be what's bothering me: it sometimes seems to me that there is a new nervousness amongst the general population that makes me sad. It is the nervousness of tally sheets, where what is tallied is time-well-spent. This anxiety about time actually neglects to allow time to pass gracefully. It wants every moment to be filled to the rim with brim. But exceptional moments only arrive when they have a background against which to be exceptional, you know?
But lives lived in cities by people with demanding jobs are perhaps destined to be lives lived with tally sheets. Choices to have to be made. It is regrettable, but normal. But maybe choices should be viewed as choices rather than as imposed constraints. I mean, what is so wrong with a night spent out with friends, against a backdrop of music�good and bad�and crazy interesting people? Does it really require patience of a person? Since when does waiting for the next good song mean time�s a-wasting? Especially when you can talk about the interweb or dating or what's-going-to-happen, or observe the antics of cute-tie-guy or dude-looks-like-a-lady-interracial-couple?
Perhaps it�s easy for me to say this, about a night out on the town, because I very rarely have to wake up early, and I�m just back from a year in nowhere. So be it. But let it be known I have no quarrels with those who are tired and want to go to bed. Come at 9, leave at 11, and you will get no complaint from me. My problem is with the never-good-enough. It is good, sometimes, just to commit to an evening with friends and music and imperfect circumstances, without needing that evening to be the end all. Because you don�t want the end all. You want life to continue. The end comes soon enough, and sometimes much sooner than you would wish.
Please, do not lose this joy in just being out with people, ever. OK? That�s all.
This is not a letter to Heidi and Liz. It is a rumination on getting older, having lots of competing demands on my time, and still wanting to have the joy of being out on the town. That joy can�t be condensed. It has to take the bad with the good. And a night out with Heidi and Liz is always mostly good, no matter what else happens.
And then!
For the first time in twelve years, I got a new haircut! It is not so very different, but it is not exactly the same, either. Also, now my hair is dark brown (with streaks of blonde and light brown), whereas before it was blonde. And Heidi did not notice until I instructed her to do so. And Liz did not notice at all. This is not so odd�I actually appreciate the fact that all of my oldest friends never notice when I change my hair color, because it changes more often than do seasons in California.
1:36 a.m. - May 27, 2005
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