The Runcible Blog

I got my first speeding ticket for $100: 53 in a 30mph zone on Sutton St. in North Andover at 1:30AM. I mean, I wouldn't have driven that fast if there were people around. sheesh! I told the officer, "I can't drive......55!" then wailed on my air guitar before peeling out while pretending to drive an Iroc-Z Camaro. Of course, he couldn't chase me because he felt so inadequate after I blew his mind with an imaginary power chord. Victory was mine!

People always say, "It never hurts to ask." They're wrong. Sometimes it does.

My mother just said that she's "leaning toward Bush". Unbelievable! She said she doesn't want to vote for Kerry because she doesn't want to be poor. News flash, Ma: You're already poor!

I shouldn't be surprised that someone who pays no attention to the issues would want to vote for Bush. The scary thing is that it proves that the right-wing marketeers are doing a good job. The issues don't matter; the only thing that matters is that "everybody" says if you vote for Kerry, he'll raise your taxes. TV commercials can't be wrong, can they? Maybe I can convince her to vote on November 3rd.

All I can say is it's a good thing we don't live in New Hampshire, where her vote could make a difference.

I always wonder what to do when I'm walking down a hallway and see someone walking towards me. At what point are you supposed to acknowledge the other person? If I see someone at the other end of the hall, do I wave and yell, "Hello!", or do I pretend that I haven't seen him until we pass each other and nod? It seems a little silly to ignore someone until they're within 3 feet, but then again, if you walk with your head down, it would make sense that you wouldn't see anyone. On the other hand, walking with your head down makes it seem like you're sad or trying to shut out the world.

Maybe what I should do is sprint down the hall as soon as I see anyone -- get right to that "hello" as quickly as possible. Or maybe I should immediately turn around rather than deal with a potential protocol violation.

Speaking of manners, what do you do if you're at a urinal, and someone steps up to the one next to you? Assuming you know the person, do you say hello, strike up a conversation, look at him, compliment his gluteus maximus? Usually I jump back 3 feet in horror and end up peeing all over the wall and myself. There must be a more appropriate approach.

I have this pent up energy right now that is going to waste. I saw Team America: World Police earlier (highly recommended!), which revved me up with its catchy theme song: "America! Fuck Yeah! Coming again to save the mother-fucking day, Yeah!" Then I went back to work to tell my review to Angie. But in my haste I said "cya later" and left. As I was driving away I thought, "wait a minute...I should've asked if she was doing anything after work." Now I feel very stupid because there are all sorts of things that I want to talk with her about, and I don't often get a chance to converse with such a like-minded person. What was I thinking? She must think I'm a strange fellow to go back to work for about 2 minutes and leave just like that. It doesn't make sense, Dave!

*sigh*

Now what is there to do? I'll probably bang on the piano or watch TV, still feeling like a shmuck (for today, at least). Sometimes the words escape me. "You make me cowardly curious, awkwardly awed. I want to learn more about you." But I'm afraid of saying the "wrong" thing. I'm afraid that a random comment can scare people away (though I never know what that comment could possibly be), but then I think that only the most superficial people would run away based on one stray comment. It's confusing. But I have energy, inspiration [not]. "What are your hopes, dreams, aspirations? What do you want to do with your life? Really? tell me more..." and so on and so on. Although the energy's there, I've built a brick wall in front of myself.

I wasn't always like this. In my brief stint at college, I could talk to strangers and floor-mates (mostly girls, *gasp*) out of "innocence" and genuine curiosity. Now, it's somehow different. I'm still curious, but I know a bit more of "how the other half lives" (the other chromosome, that is). It makes me doubt myself because I think that others will take my curiosity the wrong way. It's especially frustrating with non-single types, who always seem suspicious of me. At least, that's what I sense. I don't bite!

Ugh, well anyway, maybe I'll rediscover how to spit the words out at the appropriate time without sounding like a bumbling buffoon. It's like doing surgery in a vacuum blindfolded. right.

On another note, I think this is the next tattoo. It's only a question of where to put it:

"Honesty"

Saturday night Nate and I saw The Duo and Critters Buggin at the Paradise (Nate's pictures. I have some crappy ones to scan). It's actually hard to remember what the show sounded like (except that I was able to download the recording from etree). Without fail, whenever I have a camera in front of my face, I'm almost guaranteed not to remember what I'm seeing through the lens or hearing from the speakers against my ear. It's kind of disappointing -- I try to record what I see on film but fail to transfer the experience to my brain. And it's not just concerts, it's any event.

My camera is a pacifier. When I'm at a picture-worthy event without a camera, I feel antsy and incomplete. A camera around my neck gives me purpose, a mission beyond idle spectating. Some people take a friend to the movies; I take a camera.

Maybe the weirdest part is that I pass up far too many shots even though I'm seemingly prepared. Why do I bother carrying 20lbs of stuff around if I hardly use it? I often drive around at night looking for opportunities but rarely find them. (hmm, maybe I should walk rather than drive)

I think what I'm writing sounds disjointed because I'm not sure how to explain what I feel. Sometimes I think my only function, my natural state is to record what I see (hopefully in order to make some difference). But most of the time I think I'm an unimaginative hack with no original ideas. Can passion compensate for creativity? I doubt it.

A book I just bought, Truth Needs No Ally has a chapter of questions one should ask oneself before pursuing photojournalism. Personally, I find a lot of encouragement when the author "warns" that the job is low paying, hard work, and time consuming. When he advises newbies to be prepared to have no life, no time for relationships, I think, "Where do I start?!" The way I see it, the fact that most reasonable people aren't going to want to invest (or risk) their lives for such a thankless career must greatly reduce the pool of job applicants. I could be wrong though.

I hope that when I finally make some kind of decent portfolio instead of a mish-mash of artsy fartsy crap dedication will take me the rest of the way. And I hope that comes sooner rather than later. Every month, every year that I'm not doing something meaningful is time thrown away. Especially recently, I feel like I'm getting old with nothing to show for it -- without positively affecting anyone's life. The world is full of mediocre, meandering 20-somethings. I don't want to join them.

The other day I bumped into a classmate from Central, Aaron Canney. Unfortunately I couldn't remember his name and stood there straining my brain for a minute. More embarrassing was that he said "Dave St.Germain!" when he saw me. After I clearly couldn't remember, he told me.

Even though we talked for about a minute, that lapse in memory stuck with me for the rest of the day. I'm usually oddly able to remember obscure events or people. I remember a lot of strangers if I see them more than once. It's weird. But I couldn't even remember the name of someone with whom I made a health class video about heroin! how frustrating.

So, I apologize in advance to anyone I have forgotten or might someday forget.