Alternatives

My ideal job would involve playing golf or creating something. Professional golfer isn’t really in the running, and never really was. I wouldn’t mind being a golf pro – the kind that gives lessons – but, I’m too arrogant to do so. And, I have little patience for teaching people.

Being a college professor would be fun because I love the setting. I love the thought of being on a campus and drinking coffee while writing on a board and learning. I don’t have authority on much of anything at the moment, but that can always be acquired.

I would love to be a personality – a talking head. A creator. An intellectual entrepreneur. I have ideas all day long – the stream of Chris. Some of them make their way past the idea stage, and the others may some day when I have more “free” time.

I’ve never worked at a coffee shop or a hardware store, and I wish I had covered both in high school or college. The draw of the barista is mostly because I like coffee and I would like to get wired on caffeine for free. There’s something calming about a hardware store and it’s aisles full of obscure tools, rope, and metal objects that I find fascinating.

Writing is something I’ve never really given a chance beyond the random blogging and a few short articles for my old company. I think, if you were to ask me today what my ideal job would be, I would say author. Hopefully, fiction. But, I could settle.

Concord(s)

We went to a Red Sox game and left in the top of the 9th with the Sox up by one. Baltimore scored two runs in the bottom of the ninth to win by one. I didn’t care about missing it, and from what I hear this is typical of the end of their season. We went to a couple pubs, ate seafood, and saw a lot of cops in China Town. Fascinating. The one hour drive back to Concord, NH took me 3.5 hours. Apparently, Concord, MA isn’t the same as Concord, NH. Nor is it remotely close to Concord, NH. I was going east, west, northwest, which I thought was relatively correct until I found out that I needed to be going east. We got home at 4:30am.

Circumference

I expected 90% of my life to exist within a two block radius of school that included my house, a small market, and a pizza place. I expected my days to be routine as if life was going to be bundled in little packages labeled knowledge, sleep, and relaxation. But it doesn’t really work that way. Instead, 5% of my life is at or around school and the rest is spent trying to get away from it, so that I can think about school in a way that I could never think about school at school. It is, perhaps, a naive approach. To want to be somewhere else to do what I’m supposed to be doing right here. But, I can’t be in the same place all of the time. It’s stifling.

The Fourth Wall

The fourth wall is the invisible wall that separates the actors of fiction from the audience. It is more of a concept than a definable “thing,” the best example being the invisible plane extending upward from the edge of a theater stage. The purpose is to establish a certain theatrical realism (and surrealism). Here’s a list of fiction that intentionally breaks the fourth wall.

Update on the Harmonica Player

I wrote an open letter about the harmonica player that sat on the cement wall outside of the UGLi throughout my four years at the University of Michigan. A recent facebook group brought to my attention that he is actually a professor at the U of M, and is not, as I had assumed, homeless. His name is Tom Goss and he’s been playing for nearly 20 years. Chances are that if you took a stroll through the Diag in Ann Arbor you would hear him today. Here’s a Michigan Daily article on him.