Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Is Romance dead?


    I was without my phone today...all of a sudden in one gushy moment--it hit me--No snapchat, facebook, instagram, email, texting--it's abyssal moments like these that you asking the deep soul searching questions that matter most "Do I even wanna live anymore?" "Is there a God?" We've all become so dependent on cell phones these days, we have to remind ourselves, reality happens outside of what goes on in a little box.

   Tinder reports over 25 million matches a day. The numbers are mind boggling and enormous. The story is really about sex and hookups. In 1950 you'd have to hold a 2-part phone to your ear and ask the ladies dad permission to speak with her lovely daughter with sweat dripping down your forehead. These days we can order up a human being in the same way we can order up pad thai on an app. We think intimacy lies in a perfectly-executed emoji. We think effort is a “good morning” text. We say romance is dead, because maybe it is, but maybe we just need to reinvent it. Maybe romance in our modern age is putting the phone down long enough to look in each other’s eyes at dinner. Maybe romance is deleting Tinder off your phone after an incredible first date with someone. Maybe romance is still there, we just don’t know what it looks like now. When we choose, if we commit, we are still one eye wandering at the options. We want the beautiful cut of filet mignon, but we’re too busy eyeing the mediocre buffet, because "choice". Because choice. Our choices are killing us. We think choice means something. We think opportunity is good. We think the more chances we have, the better. But, it makes everything watered-down. Never mind actually feeling satisfied, we don’t even understand what satisfaction looks like, sounds like, feels like. We’re one foot out the door, because outside that door is more, more, more. We don’t see who’s right in front of our eyes asking to be loved, because no one is asking to be loved. We long for something that we still want to believe exists. Yet, we are looking for the next thrill, the next jolt of excitement, the next instant gratification.

    We soothe ourselves and distract ourselves and, if we can’t even face the demons inside our own brain, how can we be expected to stick something out, to love someone even when it’s not easy to love them? We bail. We leave. We see a limitless world in a way that no generation before us has seen. We can open up a new tab, look at pictures of Portugal, pull out a Visa, and book a plane ticket. We don’t do this, but we can. The point is that we know we can, even if we don’t have the resources to do so. There are always other tantalizing options. Open up Instagram and see the lives of others, the life we could have. See the places we’re not traveling to. See the lives we’re not living. See the people we’re not dating. We bombard ourselves with stimuli, input, input, input, and we wonder why we’re miserable. We wonder why we’re dissatisfied. We wonder why nothing lasts and everything feels a little hopeless. Because, we have no idea how to see our lives for what they are, instead of what they aren’t. 

    We are always on to the next. Searching for the elusive more. The next fix. Living our lives in 140 characters, 5 second snaps, frozen filtered images, zippy memes, four minute movies, attention here, attention there. More as an illusion. We worry about settling, all the while making ourselves suffer thinking that anything less than the shiny, happy filtered life we’ve been accustomed to is settling. What is settling? We don’t know, but we freaking don’t want it. If it’s not perfect, it’s settling. If it’s not glittery filtered love, settling. If it’s not Pinterest-worthy, settling.

"We realize that this ‘more we want’ is a lie."

We want phone calls. We want simplicity. We want a life that does not need the validation of likes, favorites, comments, upvotes. We may not know yet that we want this, but we do. We want connection, true connection. We want a love that builds, not a love that gets discarded for the next hit. We want to come home to people. We want to lay down our heads at the end of our lives and know we lived well, we lived life to its fullest. This is what we want even if we don’t know it yet.


    Romance, or as it is awkward to say nowdays, is old and foreign, it conjures up images of blouses, gentlemen in hats and awkward carriage rides.  It used to entail a lovesick boy pouring his heart out over a tear stained parchment , the quill in his hand shaking, rendering the ink slightly blotched  “I miss your tender embrace and melodious voice, darling you are all that is sweet and fair in the world when I think back to how we first met; holding you in my awkward arms, I still see your comely features smiling blissfully back, whatever befalls me in this rugged mess, some call life, you will forever and always be the best thing that ever happened to me, we mesh like lavender and lace, you are the captain to my ship, the key to my heart. I miss you more than I could ever describe my lovely Susannah” -Her heart flutters as her eyes well up with unbridled joy, she stifles a sob, clasps her breasts and briskly fans her contorted face for no other reason than dramatic affect as tears begin to slowly roll off her rosy cheekshis words had been like a hot iron searing some ulcer deep within her soul. The grip on the parchment becomes less clinched it drops to the floor and raw emotion takes over;  it flows in waves she staggers, clutching the porch pillar to stabilize for emotional support.  Nowadays there is an occasional “sup babe” or a snapchat of dinner. 


    Now that we can text, skype or face time anyone in the world it allows for this narcissistic self-entitled feel. I mean I don't know, I'm not really good with technology. All this button and whatnot. I mean you can just imagine based on what's happened the last 15 years. Conversations won't happen 10 years from now. There aren't going to be people to talk to. its going to be like this (pushes buttons). 'Do you want to go out on a date with me?' 'I don't know, what do you look like?' 'Well I look kind of like this.' 'OK, what are your interests?' 'Well, what do you think my interests are? Looking into this thing and typing into this just like yours are.' 'Yeah, no kidding, that's what everybody's doing.' 'Well, where do you want to go?' 'Well, what  difference does it make? Because all we're going to be doing is looking into machines anyways.' Well, that's true and in the end it's going to be tough to perpetuate the species. There's no question about that. So we're all going to look in this box and eventually be extinct. That's how it ends." That's where the decline begins.

    Now I regress..If you once again could go back deep in time, before the baby boomers, the great depression, before people in Japan starting cutting off people's heads and you somehow ended up in the 21st century, you would think we'd all have lost our minds..And someone says "So what'd you see?" "There is an infestation of crazy! They're all using these weird solid rectangular objects, then staring and laughing into them, smiling then turning it around and even putting it up to their ear and talking to no one in the room! There must have been nuclear waste that seeped out of the substrate,  let's go back before the virus hit, and then *whoop* you're back plowing fields with horses and cutting wheat with a scythe with no desire to travel back to the future where all the crazy people live. People are becoming more self-entitled these days due to technology. Picture Lewis and Clarke  scaling the last peak of the rocky mountains in a blizzard and finally reaching the gorgeous scenery outlining the Columbia River Basin. They would've felt like they conquered the world or just won the Super Bowl,,This is it, months of arduous labor and rigid documentary, the nation will be amazed...Now days we can pass over the continental divide and lake Michigan in one snooze and then when arriving to our destination bitch about the layover in Denver..Oh you had to wait another 20 minutes? Did you participate in one of the amazing modern miracles of aviation and flight? Did you sit in a seat as you breached the cumulonimbus layer and flew like a bird through the air? We are living in an amazing age of discovery and technology let's all just stop and take a moment to appreciate it:)






Wednesday, April 1, 2015

The harsh winter I spent on the Palouse..


     "Harsh lands lie before him as he struggles to keep his wits, malicious thoughts incept him, cripppling the moral of his spirit, shattered visons  begin to transpire, an awful naustalgia consumes him, a crooked smile forms, so began the fall of a mastermind, realizing as his mind falls to pieces they are but catalysts, parts of a puzzle to a different plan, as the images surface his virtue descends..Living amongst those barbarians, though a fierce complication, there tack was that of a wounded creature and they were overrun, i remain in exhile, my bones grow weak like the sun descending into the tree's to end this daily affliction, as winter shows its palid face, the earth veils with marble frost, forsaken...this gradual madness consumes my mind..So began the fall of a mastermind.."

   This excerpt  is how I would like to begin the tale of my trials on the wintry slopes of the palouse. It was not an easy underraking arriving back to pullman in a snowstorm after my adventure to oklahoma, I was pulled over the night before  under conviction of intoxication and spent my night outside an abandoned house in Cle' Elum Washingotn shivering for warmth rubbing together a packet of handwarmers in order to ward off the cold and elude hypothermia. The temperature reading on my phone read 13 degree's right before it shut off. Even my phone had abandoned me on this forlorn worst night of my life and all my blankets were left the car. I got my vehicle back the next morning from the impound lot after being socked for a wad by a hefty fee...a fee I had reserved to pay rent that month. Upon arriving to Pullman I was greeted with the icy blast of winter's unforgiving chill. I was penniless and broke. I had saved a friend from a bad situation but now I was fighting for sustenance and survival. A note the next morning appeared posted on my sliding glass door threatening eviction. At least I still have my car I mused. My car was the ol' reliable I had had it for the last 3 years and it was still chugging along despite several setbacks..The hood was replaced after I hit a deer the summer before, the back end damaged after a collision, the front fender bent out and held together by boards, this thing was a real piece of work and I christened it "frankie" short for frankenstein for it's scheer and hideous ugliness. I knew the tranny was starting to go mainly based on the fact I had to floor the accelerator all while observing diesel semi's pass me while I was 'flint stoning' my ass up an incline. Yet it got me to work and back for the last 2 weeks of Novemeber all until the first week of December. I was driving back from work in a rainstorm and noticed a car pulled over to the side of the road its blinking emergency flashers arrested my attention as I slowed down, I strongly  considered  helping out right after I glanced down and noticed my battery light was on, *uh-oh* this can only mean one thing, praying this wasn't the case I thought well forget the car! I just hope my serpentine belt hasn't slipped again, about one mile past my engine thermostat was way in the red, I pulled over snapped open the hood and gagged on a plume of protruding smoke, surely *cough* hack *wheeze* this can't be happening...not here...not now, not again the storm raged on unabated and the rain hit my face as I lurched back toward the car fumbling around for a flashlight, I found one I had kept under the door handle and flicked it on to closer observe the situation at hand..yepp sure as shit, my worst fear had come true, my S-belt had slipped off again, well I was out of AAA tows and my phone was at 15% clearly on life support I phoned my friend Faustino who came over and gave me a lift back. My car on the other hand was left on the side of the road like a sad lonely remnant of my once fleet method of transportation. I was under the impression the car could remain there for 48 hours w/o federal probing or investigation, turns out my facts were wrong. 

  On the morning of December 3rd, the  second day after my car had been abandoned, I biked the 4 miles over to it with a S-belt wrench in hand hoping to fix it up enough to chug-along to my place of residence.  I still remember that cold bitter feeling that hit me upon arriving at the vacated spot where my car once was,...It was gone...gone! I sat there on my bike seat  amidst the falling snow and piercing wind as it whipped my numb face gripping the guard rail for emotional support in complete mesmerated shock and awe...no! why! This isn't happening!  Say it aint so! It's gone! I called the police department and they said they picked it up no more than a half hour prior..I was 30 minutes too late! If I hadnt thrown that eggo in the toaster and started a batch of coffee maybe I would have  made it! Now my lolly-gagging around and late morning start would cost me. I quickly phoned the tow company all the while on my way to work explaining my dire circumstances and begging for a requittal. Unfortuanately there was nothing they could do. I was depressed as an eeyore in winnie the pooh as I biked into work, the glum feeling permeated me and followed me around like an ominous dark cloud refusing to depart. I would have to pay $400 that I did not have to get it back plus the impound fee. A quick financial observation made me realize there was no way I could save frankie. Frankie was doomed as well was I. This was my fate I was flummoxed and perplexed. Eventually I decided to forgoe the attempt to get frankie out of the impound lot and instead attempt to scrap it for what it was worth, turns out it wasn't much, best I could get out fo it was $100 from some random self employed auto rpair junkie who attended auctions, I agreed to it and paid the towing fee of 300 in addition to the removal of the car. 

      I biked to work for the next month is weather that barely crept above 35 degrees, 15 miles a day and sometimes over a solid sheet of ice all the while wondering if I had lost my mind completely..Naw I was paying for my faults, for my lazy non-chalaunt care free behavior surely this is what I deserve I rationalized. Many times I'd show up to work completely soaked unable to retain sensation to my toes or face. I'd de-thaw in the back room as concerned co-workers brought me piping hot coffee. My starbucks family was the reason that kept me going it was like having a second family, they all looked out for each other and many times when I got off at 9 after pre-close one or two of them would offer me a ride back home, although I initially refused they insisted and I accepted. On one particular day, when there was 6 inches of snow on the ground amidst a raging blizzard I got off at 9 and a co-worker amanda drove back and picked me up saying there was no way she was letting me leave work back to pullman..She knew I was strong-headed and resented help, but she was peresistent and came back and picked me up, I popped the back tire off to my bike and she lifted me the 8 miles back to pullman. On the steep hill to my apt though her car gave out and we found ourselves surprisingly drifting sideways down the hill..."awh let me out I said I don't want you to risk any more" she agreed and I got out and folllowed a trail alongside the road up a steep embankment, bike in tow to my place, I slipped several times all while grasping my bike and struggling up the steep ravine. At any particular moment I could have slipped and went *ploop* clear off the edge. It was wayy easier traversing this shortcut w/o 6 inches of snow on the ground. But I eventually made it up safe and sound. 

  On many occasions I actually enjoyed my commute to work I'd bundle up roll up my black khaki's bast the knee line of my my underlining white thermals throw on a scarf and bike to work. I'm sure I looked rediculous but who cares, at least I wasn't freezing and could feel my face. the Icy palouse terrain was indeed quite beautiful and I was enjoying amazing scenerery and crisp fresh air few other's would understand. On one particular commute to work I hit an icy patch and slid clear off my bike headlong into a wooden bridge support my out stretched hand bracing the fall connected with the pillar and I heard an unsettling *snap* my finger was swollen and bruised, as I got back on he bike. About a mile later I slid off again and my ass hit the icy turf with an abrupt bounce. I must have broken my ass bone by the searing pain I soon after expiereinced, my middle finger was the size of an enlarged penis and my ass felt like jelly. Soon after  my bike gears starting clicking out of gear and I spent the next half hour traversing the last two miles. This was the most physically and mentally exhausting ride of my life. Ugh, if only  they had a  bus connecting the two cities my life would be so much easier. I arrived to work feeling like I went 9 rounds on the losing end of a  UFC fight. Yet this was all okay because my spirits were still high.

   Now it is April and I found a second job working as a server at Fireside Bar and Grille to supplement my income and earn enough $ to pay court fee's as well as a sleugh of other bills. Life's not easy but by the grace of God I continue trucking, now spring weather has arrived and the undulating rolling hills of the palouse are green. The tree's outside my house are blooming with white and pink flowers and it brings rest to my unsteady soul. Life is better than I expected. And I am doing far better than I deserve:)

Good night everyone -signing off for the night

-Kyle Crockford