Technology: The Whisky for the Social Chill

I’ve been thinking about how technology and our fast paced lives have actually hurt relationships. People work long hours, and even if they get out of work at a reasonable hour, they just want to go home and go to sleep, or maybe they will be lucky enough to tuck their kids in at night.

I’m reminded of a joke by George Carlin. He was making fun of “play dates”, where two parents would schedule a time for their kids to play together. His response was, “What ever happened to ‘you show me your wee-wee and I’ll show you mine?’” I mean really, when did personal relationships, even making mud pies, become so hard or complicated?

Then I look at all of our technology like cell phones, blogs, IM, and online dating, and now I see the problem. All these things are tools, and tools can do as much harm as they can good. They can bring us together and then tear us apart. They can make it look like we are creating more meaningful relationships, when what we really are doing is creating a lot more relationships in our lives which appear meaningful, but aren’t, and in doing so we separate ourselves from the ones who are really important to us.

I love my cell phone just like the next guy, but it seems like when we are lucky enough to have good old face-to-face contact with people, we get interrupted by extremely annoying ring tones for a conversation that could have taken place almost any other time. Do we really need to be in contact with everyone whom we know 24 hours a day? We won the Revolutionary war and created modern Democracy, and I’m sure Washington could sit down for a drink with his pals and shoot the shit and not worry about hearing that annoying Beethoven’s 5th ring tone.

Then there are blogs, which I obviously love, because I am writing in one as I type this. But blogging can get addictive, and even though you might have an interesting discussion with someone from across the globe, you might be neglecting that talk that you need to have with your kids. I got addicted to the liberal blogs during the Dean and Kerry Campaigns, and I neglected my family, my friends, my job, and my life. I did, however, meet a lot of cool people at that time, and some of them are very important in my life now. However, I didn’t meet them on blogs!

Then, there is the lovable IM. I love IM. I really do. I think that I’m addicted to it. Maybe it’s because I can multitask, like talk to 3 different friends at once, or chat with your friends while you write a blog post about how bad IM is and watch the latest episode of “Six Feet Under” all at the same time. Maybe it’s because I don’t have to worry about those long uncomfortable silences on the phone. You can just do something else until something else comes to mind, and you don’t feel bad about it. But then there is the reality, the ugly side of why I used to like IM. It’s because I felt ashamed to look people in the eyes.

Now I know a lot of people who have had some success with online dating, so I am in no way dissing it as much as I am dissing a society which needs it. What ever happened to good old fashioned romance? Now it’s cute little profiles, or witty funny ads and emails. I think that it became so big because we are all too busy to foster social networks. Most people that I know who are married met their spouse through mutual friends. Why doesn’t that happen anymore?

And now I think that we hit the nail on the head. We are too busy, or at least we act too busy, to spend the proper time with those who are important to us. Does any of this sound familiar? Hey, I would hang out with you, but work is killing me. Hey, Daddy is busy blogging, but I will be with you in 5 minutes… I mean 10 minutes… Sorry, it’s your bedtime. I have to take this call. Sorry about the delay, I have 3 IM conversations going on at once. I’ll be right down honey. I’m just answering a few emails. And the list goes on and on.

So does technology bring us together or tear us apart? Worse yet, does it tear us apart and make us think that we are coming together? Do we use it like a bumb drinking whisky to kill the chill of a winter night, only to wake up frostbitten and hungover?

A Raison In The Sun

Last week, I went to Live 8, which has got to be up there in the list of the coolest experiences of my life. Afterwards, I went to my friend’s 30th Birthday party, which was also cool. I got a ride home from a singer who I have scene before at a Cabaret act that my friend is involved in. We started talking about her career. I asked her about her goals and what her dreams were. She said that her dream was to bring her art to the masses and make a living as a musician. I have to say that I think that she is well on her way, and maybe someday, I can say that I knew her when.

Then, she put the question back at me. What are my dreams? And I hesitated and didn’t really know how to answer it. I want so much in life. I want to have a family. I want to have a wife who loves and supports me and can kick my ass intellectually. I want to walk in the room to my kids who yell Daddy and hug me, only to have my eyes light up like the Champs-Elysee at night. I want to travel the world. I want to be financially independent and be my own Boss. I want to be known as a good friend, a good father, a good son, a good man, and a good artist. I want it all. I don’t just want to be the Squirrel trying to get a nut.

And then I think back to all the dreams that I had. I remember wanting to be a firefighter, and Aeronautical Engineer, hell, even an Ichthyologist. I try not to have dreams or high aspirations, because our dreams are based on limited knowledge. I thought that I would be the next dot con (yes, con) Millionaire. Now, I’m just happy to get an OK job where I can code some badass shit.

So is it good to dream? I think so. I think we all need to dream, because if we don’t, then there is no progress in the world. But when do our dreams get in the way of progress? How do we stand firm in our goals, even in times of adversity, and know that we don’t have our heads up our asses? How do we deal with the fact that our dreams are an ever-changing target based on where we are and what we know? Should we give up? If so, then what happens to a dream deferred?

Dating: The Opera

I am about as far away from Cro-Magnon Man as you can get, yet I have a certain nostalgia for caveman culture. When a guy wanted a women, he would just take a club, beat her over the head and then take her to his cave. Dating was that simple. Why can’t it be that simple now?

Now, it’s a whole song a dance with all sorts of games, twists, and complications. I can even imagine it being an Opera called Datare.

[Curtain up. Overture starts]. Everyone is in their debutant costumes, drinking, laughing and dancing at a ball. The light goes up on two people whose eyes meet all the way across the room. The guy, trying to impress the lady, does spins all the way across the room. He takes her hand and asks her to dance. She giggles and acts shy and says no. The guy asks again, and then they dance in the center of the stage.

The next scene, we see the guy at one place and the girl another. He calls her, and we see her with her friend laughing. They hang up and the guy dances and turns all over the stage while the girls gossip and laugh about what they think of him (“Comico”).

The next scene is the first date. The guy meets the girl and he bows and she curtsies. He does his little dance, and she does hers. Both are trying to show good moves but not their best moves. They keep a safe distance as to not get to close. He tries to impress her without revealing anything. She flirts but does not want to flirt too much, because she wants to hold back (“Partita”).

The next scene, we see the guy singing about how much he loves the girl (“Amore Mia”). Then immediately following, we see the girl with her friend again and they make fun of him. They sing about how he is not attractive, doesn’t make enough money, and was too nice to her (“Barzelleta”). In the finale for the act, we see the guy call repeatedly getting no answer. [Curtain down]

[Curtain up. Entre’Acte starts]. In the last act, we see the guy and girl wandering aimlessly down the street. The guy is glad to see her and she is belligerent to him. He sings to her begging for her to go out with him and she is so moved that she finally says yes (“Per Cortesia”).

They fall madly in love and sing to each other about how deeply they love each other (“Per Sempre”). Then he meets her parents briefly. The father then sings to the daughter about how she will never go out with such a guy of low class (“Classe Sociale”). The next scene we see the girl breaking it off with him saying that she loves him but can’t be with him (“No Posso”). Next we hear the guy talking about how crushed he is. He decides to challenge the father to a dual to win the hand of his love (“Spappoloto”). They have a dual, and the father kills the guy and leaves. We see the girl crushed, holding his dead body singing an aria about how she can’t live without him. Then, she kills herself. The father comes in and collapses at the sight of his dead daughter. [Orchestra finishes the climax of the music. Curtain Down. The end.]

Dating doesn’t get as crazy this Opera, but the whole dating process seems like a crappy game with a secret score card and timer with the jockeying for power where each person only reveals the “them” that they want the other person to know. They play games and try not to look to too eager or too apathetic. And then things get funky. Most of the time, either the relationship ends before it starts with no clear resolution as to when or even why, or they get into a relationship and don’t know how to get out. Sometimes a good murder-suicide seems like an ideal ending.

But we never stop and think about how absurd male and female relations are. Right now, as I type this, there is a guy in a bar somewhere talking with a girl. They are doing the normal “what’s your name what’s your sign” thing. They are talking about work, where they live, where they grew up, and what they like to do in their spare time, if they are lucky enough to have any. Sometime in the near future, he will have his penis in her. Am I the only one who finds that absurd? This is what we spend all of our time and energy worrying about? Is it worth it?

It’s much more fun to not worry about romantic involvement. The other night, I went out with my two female friends, and the one friends sister and Mom. I was the only guy with them. That’s fun, just hanging out with women and not being afraid to act silly or reveal too much. It’s just good old wholesome fun. Sometimes when you are trying to get involved with someone, them turning you down is a liberating experience, because now you feel that you can be yourself.

When you have experiences like that, you ask yourself, why the hell you would ever want to date. Well, we all do need “companionship”, and most of us want to start a family eventually. But you think to yourself that the Caveman way was so much easier. At times of frustration, you think, in the immortal words of Jimmy Buffet, “Why don’t we just get drunk and screw?”

50 year old Rock Stars

You ever hear people talk about artists like James Dean or Jimi Hendrix who died way before their time? They always talk about how great they would have been. My question is, do we know that for a fact? Look at Miles Davis for instance. Miles was on top of the world, and then in the summer of 69, he went to the Newport Jazz festival and saw Sly and the Family Stone and then got the ingenious idea of doing Bitches Brew because he wanted to be cool. That was the birth of Fusion and the death of Jazz.

Look at Peter O’toole. He did Lawrence of Arabia, The Lion In Winter, Man of La Mancha, only to do films later in his career like King Ralph. Hey, his fellow warrior Omar Sharif did Funny Girl (which I secretly love but will never admit it in public). Do you mean to really tell me that James Dean wouldn’t have had to play the Dad in a few cheesy chick flicks? You can’t see him hosting a bad game show or reality TV series? Do you really think that Hendrix would have been that great forever? Or do you suspect, like I do, that he would have had to stick to the standards until he became so mad that he actually turned into a purple haze. Or, would he have sold out like Miles did? All I know is that it’s like Grace Slick said, “There is nothing sadder than 50 year old Rock Stars.”

Thank You Busby Berkeley

I watched Reservoir Dogs for the first time about a month ago. I’m kind of slow on these things sometimes. I have to make a real sick confession. My favorite scene in that movie is when Mr. Blond does that funky little dance to “Stuck in the Middle With You” while torturing the cop. I asked my friend whether this makes me a sick fuck, and he pretty much said 10-4. It’s just that I have a soft spot for funky music and dance.

In a similarly sick movie, American Psycho, the main character, who is a serial killer, puts on “It’s Hip To Be Square” by Huey Lewis and the News. He does this funky little movement while doing a crazy funky monologue about the history of Huey Lewis and the News. It was pretty funky. And then, if memory serves me correctly, he hacks the guy to death with an ax.

It looks like I am on a sick little trend here, so maybe Godard can come to the rescue. I have kind of turned into a Godard fiend as of late. Two of my favorite movies by him have cool little dance scenes. I love the cool scene from My Life To Live where Anna Karina does a fabulous funky little dance in order to get the attention of the men in the room. The best is from Band of Outsiders, where they do a dance called the Madison. Even cooler is the narrator’s monologue:

Now is the time for a digression in which to describe our heroes’ feelings. Arthur keeps watching his feet, but his mind is on Odile’s mouth and her romantic kisses. Odile is wondering if the boys notice her breasts moving under her sweater. Franz thinks of everything and nothing. He wonders is the world is becoming a dream or if the dream is becoming the world.

There are many more dance numbers and musical scenes that I love. Pretty much anything by Mel Brooks lands on the list, but I digress. I wonder why I love the scenes so much. Is it because I got introduced to the performing arts by seeing Broadway Musicals? Do I have a soft spot for sick or campy musical scenes because that’s what I have trained myself to do? Or, are these scenes just that good. It’s the million dollar question. I think it's all Busby Berkeley's fault.