People Watching… Part 1

Last night, I took the doggie out for a walk. We ended up on the main road here in town where there is a bit of commerce in the form of restaurants and small shops. At this time of night, namely after 11 p.m., most things are closed. There is an all night chain pharmacy and a pizzeria, which are not near each other, and then down the street in either direction, there are a series of pubs, which I imagine are known for their beer selections. None the less it is generally quiet around this time.

However, consistently, every time I am in that area around that time, there are a few packs of obviously intoxicated people, trekking their way back to wherever it is they are going, from wherever it is that had just come from. This night was no exception, except the humorous packs this time were in most cases, individuals.

The doggie and I found a bench which is nestled between a bank and that pharmacy. It is under a tree and it was breezy last night, so it was perfect for just chillin. After about two minutes, this amazingly skinny, middle-aged white man comes stumbling down the street. At first I thought there was something physically challenged about him with the way he was all over the place, but then he made this face towards the air with some mumbled words, that allowed me to question his mental position at that moment. He tripped a bit and made some gesture with his hand as to question himself as to how he could be so clumsy as to trip over his own self. He started mumbling something in disbelief and then stopped at a street pole just a few feet away.

He placed one hand on the pole and the other forearm over and across his forehead. It was there that he stayed for about ten minutes. Eventually he removed himself from the pole, and tripped and started to drift away. Shortly thereafter, his replacement showed up.

This guy was a bit stocky, a bit younger, maybe early thirties, a t shirt and shorts, with tats all over his legs. He wore a baseball cap of some sort and seemed kind of like a tough punk type cat. He was intelligent looking with glasses and was having a rather upsetting conversation with himself as he too mumbled something in disgust and made some hand gesture to confirm his disbelief.

Now I have become someone who has started to make conversation with himself from time to time, and occasionally, I have some harsh words towards my inner self in the process in an outward form of expression; but I started to worry last night if I too looked like one of these folks when on occasion I spout something out in disgust towards some inner thought or conversation I may have been engaged in. Where it made me self-concious for a minute, It also made me feel comfortable in the fact that other people do that, even if they look the fool. There is comfort in similarity!

Anyway, the next few minutes featured groups of intoxicated people laughing and shouting whatever it is they were shouting about. Several groups were speaking in languages unfamiliar to my dialect. Others were obviously young college kids, inexperienced in drunk noise level control. I had two thoughts when watching the drunk college kids. “what a bunch of losers…” and “oh how I miss those days!” But in hindsight, I’m thinkin, who’s the real loser in that crowd, the drunks having a good time and making a little bit of fools of themselves, or the early thirties college dropout sitting on a bench with his dog nearing midnight on a Friday night watching a bunch of people have a good time and not caring about what they may look like? Perhaps we were all losers at that moment in time. Once again, perhaps comfort in similarity…

The next phase of people were random and featured a guy on his cell phone, a couple of fairly attractive young women getting in to a cab, and a Chinese man, lugging cases of soda on a hand truck up the street and then returning a few moments later with a hand truck and empty soda crates.

After some time, I felt it getting time to return. The doggie agreed. We got up and walked to one corner, where surprisingly enough, the ta-too punk guy was hailing a cab, and still looked frustrated. He hailed a cab which made a quick u turn and picked him up. We made a u-turn and headed back to the house.

Feeling good about our people watching experience, and our escape to the outside for a little while, we turned the corner and headed towards the house. Curiosity got the better of the doggie however, when she sniffed in a fence, and got maced by a skunk (see previous post.) On the way back, she frothed at the mouth and was swaying and kind of freakin out. She tugged and pulled towards the house, while I spoke with her to comfort her much of the way. I can only imagine the people watcher’s thoughts on this street noticing the loner and his frothing dog sprinting towards their destination. The watcher becomes the watched.

Night Owl gets the Early Bird…

Awaking early versus late has a significant impact on one’s day. I was just staring at someone’s home page on their blog and it offered a nice scenic glimpse of a bridge goin over a river in what looks like a park with grass and trees. The area is engulfed in a thick, yet not too thick you can’t see, fog. Its beautiful and its generally something you can only witness early in the day.

As I looked at the photo at this website, I wondered what it must be like for birds who are required according to human work definition to get up early and “get the worm.” (do birds in Mexico arise early to get the worm from tequila bottles…?) I wondered if birds realized the significance in the difference between that part of the day and let’s say a few hours later. I feel that they must awake early because nature directs them to, but if they had the choice like some lazy humans do, to arise later than expected and catch a different part of the day first, would they realize at some point, the beauty they have been missing as I did today?

www.annapodris.com

I have for the most part been a night owl, preferring late night hours versus arising at 6 a.m. only to have coffee and venture to a 9-5. I have worked overnight hours several times and have found my work to be more productive… and when I went to school, I always arose late for class… and when I went to class in college, I always performed better in later classes than those 7 a.m. lectures.

Night hours have always seemed special to me and more fitting. Maybe its because there’s less activity going on. Or maybe cause there’s less people around. Or maybe because its less sunny and therefore generally cooler than the daytime heat. Or maybe it has to do with energy and that there’s less chaotic energy in the air to disrupt my overly sensitive senses.

But lately, being unemployed, I find myself awaking around 7 and going to bed around 11. Its a weird sensation waking up early and I have grown to like it. I feel like I am more part of the real world, even though I am not working. I feel as if I am doing what is correct by nature. And when I do get up early, I go outside with the doggie and admire the way the day is at that time. If I was still enjoying cigars and coffee, you can be sure I would have one or both of those things during these moments. The weird thing is that I am not even tired anymore at 7.am. I do get tired around 9 for some reason, but at 7, where I used to be groggy, its as if I was supposed to be up and I don’t even need any stimulants to make me feel more awake as most people seem to require. If I was working, this feeling would be ideal.

Anyway, I just wanted to share my appreciation for the a.m. with you. I wonder if there other night owls who have gone through the same thing… you know a transfer from a night owl to an early bird. Is it part of getting older? Is it part of my constant urge to eat? Is it my subconscious trying to kick my lazy conscience in to gear and get me motivated? Is it just my senses connecting to the part of the day that just seems to glisten with natural beauty? Not sure, but its nearing 9, and I must get in a nap…

owl photo borrowed from www.annapodris.com

What keeps us from doing what we want?

If I were to guess, I would say that someone reading this right now has something they want to accomplish, but is waiting to get started for some reason or another.

Perhaps they want to start a business. Or maybe they want to write a film. Or perhaps they want to help the homeless in some way. Whatever it is that they want to do, they haven’t done it yet and I want to know why.

In conversation, I have found that many people are afraid of one of two things in particular: SUCCESS or FAILURE. Now I can understand being afraid of failure as it is the one thing in life that keeps us from perfection. I can understand failure because the sensation of failure creates insecurities that are for some people, very difficult to overcome. And I can also understand failure, especially if you have failed more than once; after a series of failures, one has to question their chances of success.

But what about fear of success. Why would someone possibly be afraid of success? Perhaps it is a fear of being recognized. or maybe its because success means that you are growing up and can no longer be a kid. I have heard another theory, that suggests that fear of success, is due to the notion that people are comfortable in failure because as a person of continued letdowns, one can set his/her goals and standards so low that to aim for something just a little bit higher is much easier than achieving something a lot more difficult to attain.

So what keeps you from success? What halts you from trying? I have heard other key words and suggestions thrown out, so here’s a list of those to ponder on and perhaps comment about:

…success in wealth brings more problems than in a lack financial abundance.

…fame brings on more problems than its worth.

…the jungle of business is so overwhelming that its a challenge to convince oneself to even enter it.

…the world is such a mess right now, that it seems maybe pointless to even try and help it

…you have to go to college to get a real job, and I couldn’t afford nor was I good at education.

These are things I have heard from certain people over time. I myself have to question the true essence of some of these fears and whether or not they are valid reasons to sit on one’s ass and drift into oblivion… conversely, I myself am a person of procrastination and certainly understand the reasoning behind some of these excuses.

What do you think? Are these valid? Are there other reasons? Are there ways to overcome these fears for those who incur them on a daily basis? Can everyone be successful all of the time and can they do everything they dream of doing?

Just when is the ‘official’ start of the next day?

Tomorrow. What does this word mean? Sure, there’s a definition and an origin, but that’s not what we are here to discuss. What we are looking for here is an answer to the question of when the next day actually begins

Some say midnight, others say 7 a.m. and many say its when you wake up after a sleep, but what truly defines tomorrow.

Let me give you an example of the confusion. Let’s say I have been up till 5 a.m., partying, writing, watching infomercials… whatever it is I have been doing, I am still up at 5 a.m. doing it. Now technically it is after midnight and therefore by definition, it is already the next day ( I mean the time machine inside this computer already has changed the date.) But at midnight, it doesn’t necessarily feel like the next day, unless of course its new year’s eve 1999 and it feels like the next millenia. But the clock reads Jan.1 2000 so technically, it is tomorrow.

But I continue to stay up until 5 a.m. When I awake once again at 11, I begin my routine for the next day and it is therefore at that moment that I can say for myself it is tomorrow. But the dilema worsens when I stay up until 11 and begin my day without ever going to sleep. Now of course by definition, it was already tomorrow at midnight, but using the “it is a new day after you wake up theory,” then tomorrow is still today… but since the date has changed in the computer, then technically this tomorrow is actually still yesterday, right? Do you follow me with this?

Many people would say that the next day begins with a new sunrise, but what if the sun rises around 8:30 somewhere, and you are already well slept, and awake by 6 a.m. For you, the past day is already behind you, and you have begun your next day even before there is light to illuminate your day… but is that tomorrow?

I raise this question, today, as I have gotten into the habbit of defining the next day as 7 a.m. I am not sure how this got started, but I think I can refer to the film GROUNDHOGS DAY starring Bill Murray and Andy McDowell when everyday in Bill Murray’s world, when the clock reached 7 a.m., he would wake up in the same day he just fell asleep on. But the one time he moved forward into the next day, was when he stayed up past that 7 a.m. time.

But today, I awoke just before 6 a.m. and created this blog. Now by my standards that I have grown accustomed to, it hasn’t even become the next day yet… it is still yesterday because its before 7 a.m., but I have already slept and its past the sunrise so last night has come and gone. Man am I confused. Its like PURGATORY FOR TIME.

Perhaps tomorrow, I will have a better understanding of today, or maybe later today, I ill better understand tomorrow. Either way, enjoy your tomorrow today!