Cruisin'

Tonight, I leave on an extended roadtrip. I have things in storage in Atlanta, GA and so I will make my way, from Houston, TX - by way of Austin - to Atlanta and then turn around and drive through New Orleans back, to Houston. Me, being the travel junkie I am, can't wait to cruise for the next five days. Some people can't stand driving days on end. Those people, didn't grow up in Texas, where everyone drives everywhere. Need to go to the cornerstore? Let me grab my keys. Need to go to dinner to a friend's house in the neighborhood? Let me grab my keys. Want to go the park and let the kids and dogs roam free? Where the hell did I put my keys?!? (You get the gist.) We Texans drive, a lot. And in Houston, we drive a whole lot. If a gas station doesn't provide the luxuries of a rest stop - that gas station ain't gonna last in the Texas market - way to play smart Volero (formerly known as Diamond Shamrock).

What makes a person a travel junkie? What is it about a person that makes them want to live out of a bag, eat on the fly, and play to the mercy of new regions and different time zones? Maybe we all assume it's a free spirit. I hear road trip and I picture "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" ( i.e. drug binge across the Nevada desert with nothing but the open road). However, with a full time job, a full time family (see: extended family), and a master plan to take over the world of entertainment (stops and smiles as paparazzo takes a picture from across the street), I just don't have the time to get hooked on any drugs. Maybe after I date Lindsay Lohan, but that's only if Britney turns me down. And even then, who has time to take a drug induced road trip then - Even Willie Nelson got caught smoking pot... ON HIS OWN TOUR BUS.

Anyhow, self medication aside, I am very excited about this trip. I'm a free spirit, in a extremely practical, well articulated kind of way. I go with the flow, I generally swim with the tide. I'd say that I'm pretty laid back. It's the rest of the world that's neurotic, and of course - when in Rome. Sometimes, I get caught up in the storm and I find myself raising hell on a surface level. It's on accident, I don't mean to go through the motions without thinking. I don't plan on getting hung up on the small stuff that don't really effect my world. I don't plan on getting involved in situations that waste my effort, energy, and time - but thus is life, and I am in Rome (in a metaphorical, "I also live in the world" sense). So yes, I surely don't mind spending the next five days cruisin'.

I lived in Salt Lake City for eight months. Besides the extremely interesting dynamic provided by the Mormons that run shit there (quite impressive actually), I loved my experience there. Along with being abnormally beautiful (as in the taste of Mormons), it was a refreshingly laxed place to live. People spent time walking their dogs in the park, riding clean public transit, reading at the library, and stopping to stare at the mountains looming in the distance. It was kind of nice. I kind of appreciated that about SLC, and I hope to recapture that.

All of this leads into the idea of time. Time - ever changing, always flowing. Do you fight it, or do you use it? I have heard time compared to water - but what does that mean? Disney's Pocahontas said "what I love most about rivers is, you can't step into the same river twice" and, when I am at my best, I often find myself thinking time in the same matter. Yeah - I'm definitely looking forward to the drive...

Gray Area

I read blogs. It passes the time and generally I find it an effective way to keep myself entertained. Well today, as I was fulfilling my blog fix, I came across this entry about our inner hypocrite. The blogger titled his entry "Self-Justification" and dissected our ability to inappropriately justify ourselves when we act out this inner hypocrisy. In English: even if we don't believe in lying, we're all capable of tell our friend we love her haircut, when we really think it looks like a shiatsu died on her head. I mean, it's cool - we all do it - we tell a little lie, a fib to make the moment go just a bit smoother. Whether we do it to someone else or ourselves, we're all guilty of using our inner hypocrisy to candy coat our darker instincts.

Which is why I have always found "honest" people so fascinating. I look in the mirror and I see an honest guy. I'm pretty much a straight shooter (latent pun). I believe the people in my world would agree, I pretty much always tell the truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God. Well, that is, until my life, my dignity, money, sex, or food is at risk. Then I get into a little "white lie zone" where I might puff up my chest a little bit bigger, smile a little bit wider, and/or overlook a few of the facts. Depending on what's at risk, I could see myself (not that I really ever do it - I just know I am very capable, as are you) just straight up bearing false witness. Case in point: "I did not have sexual allegations with that woman." It intrigues me that "honest" people don't come out and say this about themselves. An honest man is a man who honestly knows he's capable of lying.

What inspired this entry was a noble idea presented in that blog I was reading. He made a statement that he was glad that everything he writes is set and documented, thereby provoking him to stay true to his own ideals and belief system. He even stated that if he were ever caught being a hypocrite, that he would appreciate his readers to let him know - as if at the time, he wouldn't be aware. (Yeah, I'm sure). My thoughts: first of all, we aren't black or white, good or evil. We're people. We're all gray area, and in my opinion, those actively labelling this as right and that as wrong, are simpletons that choose not to grasp the depth of our human nature. Sure, it would be great to just pick a side. We wake up each morning, basking in the light, full of the very goodness of the Lord. Can't you see it: helping grandmothers with their grocery bags, spending free time changing illegal immigrants into legal citizens with purpose in our country, sharing pure joy to every person you meet. Yeah, I wish. I'm not like that, at least not everyday, all the time. It'd be hard to convince me you're like that too. You have human impulses that exist outside of your own righteousness. (Even if you do give to charity voluntarily.)

The point: understand that you are gray area. You are defined by a universe you will never fully comprehend and circumstances you cannot foresee. However, people do respond to you better if you are classifiable. The key to effectively taking one stance is our ability to see the other side. Is it not our ability to engage our hypocritical nature that leads us to understand the opposing viewpoint? Beware of the man who doesn't acknowledge he's able to see it and do it in a different light. Con man's work best wardrobed in classy business suits. It is wise to understand that we are all capable of anything that lends itself to our own survival. Something to think about.

You callin' me a racist?

When I told my dad that I was going to trade in my pen and paper for ballet shoes, he stereotypically objected. "But you're a writer - it's what you do. You might like dancing a lot, you might even grow to love it. But, you just don't trade in your passion - and you definitely don't deny the gift God gives you." Needless to say, I pretty much took this with a grain of salt, and since then, have considered my experiences (which include finals in the auditioning process of a national television show, a stint studying with a 40 year old modern dance company, scholarships to various dance intensives around the country, and of course my beloved degree) as giving a huge finger to my dad's initial statement. I can attest that since then he has become much more supportive of "Jonathan: the dancer". He also hasn't been the only one to let me know I could be potentially ruining my life in becoming a professional dancer. When I called my father to let him know I was being flown to Vegas because I had made it to the audition finals of that show on television (alluded above), I slipped in a sardonic "and who would have thought it would have ever come to this - certainly not you at the beginning." It's true, I'm an ass. However, my dad took this sarcasm well, and he should have - I did learn the art of insinuating a brutally honest comment into casual conversation from him. I do see this often in my line of work. I call it racism of a different sort; the idea that artists don't have the stability that corporate types have in their careers. Here's where, if you could see me right now, I would break into an artistic movement interpretation on the fall of Enron. Gotta love Corporate America.

I like that my dad is a scary man. Him and his brother. Both are huge towering black men, thick necks, calves the size of my head, shoulders broad enough to block out the sun, biceps like watermelons. It has been said to me, "Jonathan, it's not even like you're that black" (don't even get me started on what the hell that is supposed to mean - I'm quite curious as to how all black people should be...) However, people's latent racism becomes silenced whenever I'm escorted by my dad. I really dig that. I dig that his stature and his presence can shift other people's perception of me. It can be said, and I would agree, I am at no means the most culturally ethnic black man to graze the earth. I listen to country music all the time, I'll take a cowboy boot over a nice pair of Jordan's any day, and I pronounce the number four as "forrre" instead of "pho". (On a side note: I do drive a Chevrolet, which T.I. and Mary J. Blige also drive, and though it doesn't really count since I refer to my car as "a Chevy", I do agree that Cadillacs are the king of the road. Only black people say that... and Elvis, but he's got soul.) However, none of this has anything to do with the color of my skin, or the history of my ancestors in this country. A number of people, friends and foe alike, have mentioned my "blackness" and I have in turn, found them guilty of being kinda racist. Even if you steal a stick of gum, you're still a thief.

However, I'll admit that we are all kind of racist. There's that musical, Ave Q, that has this song I love called "Everyone's a Little Racist" that points this out by way of shiny lights on Broadway. Oh, how I appreciate creative endeavors that express our warped human nature. I was having a conversation with a friend of mine about racism. In that context, she was telling me that she was grateful for Mexicans, Asians, Middle Eastern/Indians, Caucasians, Blacks (including both African Americans and everyone else that's black, as black people do come from all over the world), and Jews for their work in the following trades: Lawn mowing services, providing manicures and pedicures, eyebrow tweeking, corporate America/American government, providing good music to bump to, and always being able to show the world that one can make smart financial choices. (Notice how I never actually paired any one service with any one ethnic group).

The point: while you might have a prejudice, based in race, career fields, or class status, it is advantageous to recognize that other people also have a prejudice. Smart people can't stand stupid people. Europeans think Americans pushy, self centered, and opportunistic. Gay men can't stand "straight bars". Tom doesn't like Jerry. It is what it is. But you can use this to your full advantage. How might you ask? Did you think I was gong to tell you? I can't very well give away that gem in this post. Stay tuned.

Moonquake: the darker side of ourselves

Chances are when you looked at yourself in the mirror this morning you did not think to yourself, "Honestly, I am such an ass. Be that as it may, today I'm actively going to deceive the world and play hero, when deep inside, I sure would appreciate it if someone gave a damn and rescued me for a change." As honest as you make yourself out to be, I would find it so startling to walk into your bathroom one morning just as you say to yourself with the utmost conviction, "I may be a control freak that believes in always having the upper hand in every situation but what excites me most about living this day is how meek and passive everyone is going to believe I am."

I'm not debating whether these things are true or not. It's quite possible these thoughts do run through your head. But I imagine, it's at a low frequency. It's a subtle thought, not even completely conveyed to yourself in complete sentences. The point: unless you are actively trying to deceive (as you might be for strategic reasons), most likely you wear the person you come across with little discomfort and a fair amount of acceptance. Sure, you might not be the most humble person, but because of your modest clothing and your reserved manner, people never would think that you envision yourself a god among men. I mean sure, you may not see yourself as power hungry and ridiculously talented, but people seem to - and this gets you ahead without you actually having to be super aggressive and overly ambitious. We're all guilty of this all of the time. We pick an exterior people accept, albeit it ambitious, gifted, sullen, positive, negative, meek, gregarious - and we play into it. But we all have another side - people have often called it character. I am convinced that in pinpointing people's character, you can interact with people much more effectively. Understanding the nature of people is a science we all could benefit from. After all, we're constantly interacting: friends, family, coworkers, old ladies at the super market. It becomes advantageous to ask, "what is going on in their head?"

We're all guilty of the other side of ourselves. Private Thoughts. Preferred Habits. Basic Instincts - we either can't or won't control. We are all guilty of projecting the most acceptable image of ourselves out into the world: we come across meek and quiet, yet we harbor an unfulfilled desire to control the dynamic of every situation. We come across boisterous and confident, yet we're constantly hiding our poor self image and our people pleasing tendencies. We come across stoic and cruel, but inside we know ourselves to be humble and self sacrificing. For whatever reason we keep ourselves hidden. We could endlessly investigate why and how effectively we do this. We could endlessly explore the shifting of one's character on the darker side - the "moon" side.

However, this isn't about self investigation - how you work, how you feel, what you're hiding. This isn't about you - how to better refrain yourself from your darker impulses or give in to your truer nature. Let's leave that to the myriad of self helps books and the legions of shrinks. Instead, let's discuss everyone else - how they work, what they feel, what they're hiding. Because ultimately it proves wise to understand who you are dealing with at any given moment. Remember, it never bodes well for the Shepherd who could not spot the wolf in sheep's clothing...