posted Dec 23, 2003, 12:00 PM | 3 Comments
It's good to be home. The weather is not too cold. My family loves me. We decorated our tree well. The fridge contains tons of food. Mom bought me a bag of carrots. I sleep in my old room. My parents let me drive their cars. It is nice to drink beer with friends. My brother can be rather silly. Cookies are best with milk. Greasy mall food is no good. Coffee makes more sense in wintertime. Christmas lights are pretty. The night sky is full of stars. Sometimes I miss video games. My town is a small town. Traditions help life make sense. Anchor chain stores have taken over the mall. My wallet is full of receipts. Cell phone reception is spotty. I enjoy sweaters. It shouldn't be so easy to ignore death. I live for laughter. The smell of pine is personal. Sometimes there is wind. I enjoy taking care of the house.
Rain used to accumulate in a large puddle on one side of my crescent driveway. The puddle was never very deep, but it always returned eventually. I loved to splash in it in summer, slide on it in winter. When we resealed the driveway, the puddle went away. I'm older.
posted Dec 8, 2003, 11:47 PM | 11 Comments
Last Thursday my girlfriend spent the night at my place, on the futon pulled onto the floor in my home office, in front of the fireplace. And the next morning as I sat on the living room floor tying my shoes, we had a short conversation that went something like this:
Ryan: You know, it's funny how when we first met six months ago we both had insane schedules—me with my intense freelance work, and you with your all-night-long film digitizing—and now we're boring.
Jenny: Um, what?
Ryan: Well, here we are, leaving my apartment at the same time in the morning to go to our 9-5 shifts. We kiss each other goodbye and head off to work like regular people. It's funny.
Jenny: What do you mean, 'funny'? I like this much better, dear. It's stable.
Ryan: Yeah, but it's just kind of strange, and maybe a little sad. Our schedules were all over the place, and we stayed up late doing work that was creative, and now we truck off to our day jobs like regular domesticated types. But I guess it's all part of that gradual mid-twenties progression from the heady wild-eyed days of youth into the boring routine life of normalized adulthood.
Jenny: (putting on her coat and squinting) What are you talking about? If you think you're boring, then that's your prob—
Ryan: No, I'm just saying that—
Jenny: I like having a regular schedule, and having a good job, and getting a consistent pay check. That doesn't make us boring. Are you saying that you're unhappy?
Ryan: (rubbing eyes) Uh, er, no. I don't think we're boring, honey. I was just... joking. Dear.
We hugged goodbye and headed off toward our respective offices. About six minutes later, as I was driving my big white boat down Magnolia Boulevard, I was shocked to see a giant billboard with huge white bubble letters that read:
ORGASMS
And what made the moment noteworthy wasn't the sign itself, exactly, but the nature of my shock. Or the fact that I was shocked at all. During the instant that my eyes landed on the sign, a dozen thoughts ran through my head:
Oh, that's not right. I shouldn't have to look at that. Kids will see that. That's not something I should have to look at every morning during my quiet drive to work. Some poor father is going to have to explain to his daughter what ORGASMS are just because of this big sign! How would I like it if some big billboard forced me to talk about sex with my daughter before it was time? I wouldn't, that's how. That's not right. Somebody should do something. Nasty bitches.
The thoughts passed, and I turned left to head toward the Metro station. But the encounter caught my attention, and I gave it some thought. What I discovered during that brief moment—for the first time ever, I believe—was a taste of the sensations, instincts and attitudes of
actual conservative adults. I'm not talking about ordinary Republicans, I'm talking about honest-to-god crotchety old and bitter conservative type fuddy-duddies. It scared me, and I did not like it.
But I knew in that moment that I was right, and Jenny was wrong, and we are both doomed to grow old, backwards and boring.
To conclude, there are four epilogic points to be made here:
1) I'm a life-long democrat with an undying belief in free-speech. I believe that sooner or later our kids will be exposed to everything gross, offensive and violent in our culture, and that it's up to parents to talk to them about it all and put these things in context.
2) There are plenty of more offensive material that one can encounter on a billboard around here. This is the Valley, after all.
3) I love orgasms. What's not to like about orgasms? Nothing, that's what. Jenny would agree.
4) Upon closer examination, the billboard is actually promoting a
play by Dan Israely, now running at the Canon Theatre here in L.A. How disgusting!