November 07, 2004

Post-Election Boogie (or: being young and dealing with it)

"Excuse me," the waiter interrupted.

"We are clearing the tables off for the dance floor." he said apologetically.

We were talking about the difference between our parents generation and ours, and politics and religion and issues of controversy and so many other things that no one can ever try to change in themselves or each other. Her words were peeling me away like an onion skin wearing me thin and boiling down the meaning of thought until it wasn't worth thinking about. We talked until every other dinner had been finished and every dinner table had been cleared away. The DJ was unrolling his coaxial cable coiled around his elbow. The line began assembling outside the double glass doors. The waitress came and stamped our hands. The lights were turned down, and the boys collars were turned up, turning the wood grained banisters and roosevelt parlor atmosphere into what is was: a saturday night on the west coast.

We walked up the stair case. I carried our sack of free books we took from the free book box in front of the book store down the street. Upstairs we found two empty seats at the end of the balcony against the wall. I sat down and watched our dinner table being carried away like a coffin through crowd filling up the open floor.

My mom has this saying." i remembered her telling me, "If you are not a democrat when you are young, you don't have a heart. If you are not a republican when you are old, you don't have a brain."

It made sense, and sounded like it could be true, until i moved to california.

A lot of things would make more sense if i tried to stop making sense of them and just stayed in one spot.

Our glasses were empty, along with my wallet. I hung my head over the railing and watched the dance floor shimmer and spin like a school of tuna swimming through the sea. I looked down over the balcony at everybody looking at each other. I looked down over the balcony at everybody trying to figure it out. I looked down over the balcony at people who agree and disagree, and at people who don't know the difference. And as long as the music was playing loud enough, i thought, everyone will get along fine.

As i looked down over the balcony at all the fish in the sea, i began to understand that the biggest disservice i can do to myself is expecting it will ever get any better. I tried my best to think through the music at any where in my life that i wouldn't take what i thought i would learn then and trade it back for what i actually did. I tired to remember a time when i didn't wish i hadn't looked ahead. because i always do. and i miss what is real for the expectation of what might come.

I am supposed to be growing up.

I am supposed to be learning something.

I am supposed to be figuring it out.

we don't live long enough in this world to learn anything worth a damn, i thought. i looked down at the life in the nightlife come trickling in the door like sand falling through an hourglass. and so i am reduced to relying on second hand information gathered from history in non cumulative 60-70 year increments. and i will not live long enough to ever truly be a republican or a democrat. i will not live long enough to claim to understand how this world works or how it should work. and what little i can scrape together in this life will be wiped clean and forgotten by the time the next generation of nightlife tries to talk over the music on the dance floor.

"Let's get out of here, and find some place else." she said.

"Gladly," i thought. I picked up our sack of free books we took from the free book box in front of the book store down the street. As we walked down the staircase of Mother's Tavern on Higuera St. in San Luis Obispo, I reminded myself that being young and dumb is supposed to be fun. I reminded myself that i am exactly where i am expected to be. Then i reminded myself to forget my disappointment in expectations.

And then through the crowd she smiled at me. And remembering to forget, i set down our sack of free books we took from the free book box in front of the book store down the street, and danced with her for the rest of the song.

Posted by Todd Roeth at November 7, 2004 03:38 AM