20 something and apathy for scenes you used to care about

Tuesday, July 18, 2017


“there’s tons of stuff to do in the cities. you’ll never be without something to do! there’s always something going on!”

which means something if you are doing it. but if you never go to any of those events the stuffed calendar is more of a hollow affair. last saturday night i should have done SOMETHING after work. i could have got a ticket to go to the x games. i could have gone to something called nersh fest that i was invited to by some friends — an event that i thought might be a fun play on nerf games but on my google search i found no luck. turns out it was local music and craft beer THING. i could have gone to prior lake to watch billy currington. an outdoors summer country music concert in the midwest. i could have tried to get out of work and gone home to my small town street dance and saw the people that have known me longest and that i find myself pining to be around more and more.

(friday night conversation)

“I might be going to billy currington concert, up in the air yet.”
“i just googled billy currington ha.”
“haha he’s pretty solid.”
“all his songs titles look like bumper stickers you’d see in the south.”
“Haha I can’t argue that. The hot chicks flock to it though.”
“all in the same denim shorts (high wasted for 2017) and stripey button up shirt thingys…i would go if i could. and if i had acid.”
“Haha that’s spot on.”

i wonder the percentage of time someone actually laughs or chuckles when they use a “haha” or a “ha.”

i went for an afternoon paddle on lake minnetonka to get some vitamin d and think about my options. i thought about lake minnetonka monster houses and the horror of owning one and then having to be responsible for every corner being clean. my bedroom is a small cube that i struggle with enough. but then again i suppose nobody who can afford to own such a castle does any of the cleaning themselves. i thought about the lake that all those titans of industry living in those castles get to roam around on with big boats. i thought about the manicured and perfectly green non-native grasses soaked in nitrogen constituting perfect lawns. i thought about all that shit draining into the water from the lawns and how damaging those people who all shared that enjoyable view of lake minnetonka were to the very thing they admired. i wondered if they ever wondered about if their collective actions would have such consequences on the environment that their grandkids or great-grandkids wouldn’t get to enjoy it the way they do (assuming said kids didn’t pull a malachi constant and fuck up their wealth in a drunken blur). it being the upper midwest i assumed that they didn’t waste the time thinking about those consequences and more likely had a real stance of having faith in god that things would all be fine for nature and ignoring their own agency in the whole ordeal. ignorance is a blissful view from a yacht.

i didn’t, throughout that entire paddle, give any thought to billy currington and thought more about nerf than nersh and forgot about the x games so i took that all as a sign when i got off the water that i should just avoid it all. sometimes i just want to fuck around by myself. in defense of the currington thing i’m sure it would have been “fun” or “enjoyable.” but i don’t give a fuck about that kind of music and i need a certain mood or performance enhancers to want to be a part of it. i like country music but am as picky as a vegan date when it comes to being satisfied by my options. i only like certain country singers. i like isbell and simpson and in modern times the list about ends there with a few spaced out exceptions. i find country radio to be as entertaining as drying paint.

i also find myself being less and less interested in the lower/mid-20’s girl in the stripey button up shirt thingy and the denim shorts outfit that perfectly match the two other somethings with her. i trust that they will capture the moment with an instragram picture about their besties where they all lean in towards the middle and smile and that it will get a lot of likes. and being that i have never been a real hit in that crowd anyways and i’d probably not find myself capitalizing in a carnal sense on the scene, i could save myself the agony of the music and the heat and the lack of acid-addled entertainment and just wait until morning to see the same scenery by checking in on my instagram account.

which took my prospect of going to a suburban downtown and having some peaceful but not dead drinks on a saturday night into a reality. and there wasn’t really anything special about it on itself and i think that’s what i appreciate the most about those opportunities. the lack of expectations. it’s just a bar and i’m just a guy. my hopes are low and i don’t expect to be entertained and the budweiser is just as cold in every one of those places. isbell says something about being in a bar in a familiar place and that if you don’t sit facing the window you could be in any town. and as someone who has sat down in more than a few of those bars in more than a few of those towns i can agree 100%.

there’s really no reason why i sometimes do everything i can to avoid crowds and stay away from the shit my friends invite me to and why other times i feel completely comfortable throwing myself into the masses. there’s really no reason why i insisted that night to just mope around on my own and read articles in random bars on my phone and then ended up feeling perfectly comfortable befriending and hanging out with the three mid-30’s women i accidentally ended up in conversation with. although i have to admit that it didn’t hurt that i was 1) on my fifth drink by then, 2) one of them was really hot (now that i think it over there’s really no biological reason why i found her so much more attractive than the prospect of the stripey button up girls), and 3) the bartender mistook us for a group and put my beer on the tab that they closed out within a few minutes of me sitting down — which was a conversation starter. maybe without training wheels i just need a little push.