We are defined by the things in our lives. Do not confuse “defined” with “owned by” – this is not a rumble about materialism or the depravity of consumerism. Whether we knowingly signed the contract with the things in our lives or not, they are how we are portrayed to the rest of the world as we connect the alphanumeric dots of our day-to-day lives. Whether you, in particular, are concerned with your thing-defined identity is irrelevant because the world is watching and, unfortunately for us all, you are the minority.
Category: Life @ 30Hz
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First Song
Music and movies have always been colored tabs on manila folders containing collections of moments and memories. Music recalls mental states better than any specific memory. I was listening to the Beastie Boys’ The In Sound From Way Out! when I misunderstood a three-way stop and crumpled the bumper on my Jeep (and totaled a Dodge Neon). The Wu-Tang Clan’s Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) came out a few weeks before a trip to Florida with my parents. Sitting on my suitcase outside a Hertz rental car at the Orlando airport, that CD provided the soundtrack for not only that vacation but the entire year that followed. I discovered the eccentricities and depth of Jazz music my junior year in college. I stayed up one night barely reading, barely studying for a Film Theory final because Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers demanded more attention than I could offer my studies.
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Today Was a Good Day
Today I lived Ice Cube’s “It Was a Good Day”.
…except you can substitute the part about not spotting any carjackers for the Verizon guy actually showing up before noon to install a cable box in the guest room and the part about getting paged by Kim (because she can f@$# all night) for the USPS guy delivering the replacement lamp for my 60″ Sony in time to fix my TV for the Penguins’ game tonight.
Today, however, failed to live up to “It Was a Good Day” because I don’t know anyone named $hort Dog (kind of a bummer) and even if I did, MTV doesn’t air Yo! MTV Raps anymore so no chance of stumbling across that.
Where we pretty much go even-Stephen (no substitutions necessary): Nobody I know got killed in South Central L.A. Or Mt. Lebanon, PA, for that matter. Also no “berry” flashing his lights in my rear-view. Though I did witness one ripping off tickets for four cars on a cross street that had exceeded their two-hour limit (between the hours of 10am and 4pm).
That said, I got to say it was a good day.