It might not be a very good one, but it can be done.
Wherein I start preaching the good word of the Cincinnati music scene. There’s more to this city than Afghan Whigs, you know. (Click on that AW link. It’s good. [RIP Sudsy Malone’s.])
“What’s the point of middle names, really? They should just get rid of them completely.”
“They’re used to distinguish two people with the same name from each other.”
Long, thoughtful pause. J stares off into the distance.
“Well, fortunately, you see, I have a unique personality.”
“I wonder if I would be less agitated every day if I didn’t read everyone else’s gripes on the internet via Twitter and Facebook and Tumblr, and then somehow my head lumps all of those on top of my own and then it seems unsurmountable. Which might be a word, I don’t know or care. I mean, I’d miss the clever or funny bits, but that’s like finding chocolate chips in cookies.”
“Internet geeks will live longer. Think about how less lonely we’ll be in our eighties because of the internet.”
“You’re right. Those are the good parts. Why do I just remember the bad parts from day to day? Probably more about my own head than the internet.”
“The advanced level is to be noticed by people who think I suck. Opposition. This is the path to growth.”
“Congrats on your zen-like calmness. I’m gonna go sit outside and eat my sandwich.”
Emphasis mine. I always think about the “being less lonely in our eighties because of the internet” thing. I think I can already vouch for the truth of this now, since most people seem to equate living in Cincinnati with being housebound (but oh what a house to be bound to). And given that a majority of my friends still live in New York or LA or San Francisco or London or Liverpool, yes, the internet is a godsend.
(That said, I would love to be having a beer in the Bohemian Beer Garden with Sarah + Josh + others right about now, practicing our model walks and talking JAZZ.)