Category Archives: hamilton

“31, Numb, but the Hurt is Gone…”

Friends,

I’m 31.

31 stony grey steps toward the grave if I’m looking to be poetic and needlessly morose.

It’s certainly been a full 31 years, but even in light of everything I have experienced thus far, I feel in some ways like I am just getting started.

Not at life, mind you, but at living.

This is gonna be a big year for me. How do I know?

Well because it has to be. I can’t keep on the way I have been thus far or I will keep getting what I have always gotten.

And I’m bored of that.

2015 was a big year for me. Monster was my operative word. It was my theme for the year if you will. It was on my tongue for everything I wanted to do career-wise.

And, it became a self-fulfilling prophecy: It was my biggest year in film (such as it was), and certainly I could have kept said momentum up and kept growing, albeit in a linear fashion.

But that didn’t seem righteous to me. Essentially, there were other areas of my life I had been neglecting during my entertainment pursuits, most notably my aspirations as an adventurer, and to keep on the same way I had been would have been to repress those longings.

So I donned the sombrero and poncho of el peregrino and made my first foray into Latin America where I partook in ayahuasca and shot a film. This satisfied my longing for adventure while reassuring me that I wasn’t losing too much professional momentum. I got two birds stoned at once as it were.

But now I’m back home. Back for over two months actually, and I stand at a bit of a crossroads: Where do I go from here? I could go back into that linear progression but it doesn’t feel righteous; that is to say I don’t find myself pulled in that direction. After all, do I really wanna spend the rest of my life only telling other people’s stories? No, mine must be the priority.

I feel on a very deep level that to keep pursuing the same things, the same way in the same place is to do myself a disservice and squander my potential while ignoring my passions.

If the theme of 2015 was Monster, the theme for 2016 is Evolve. I have known this…felt this, since mid-2015. I’ve recognized this need for a quantum-shift for that long.

So how do I plan on evolving?

Well, I am precipitating said evolution assymetrically and on many fronts simultaneously, developing existing aptitudes and even trying my hand at new endeavours not strictly film or even adventure related. That’s a big step for me.

So what are some of my approaches?

Well, there is another adventure documentary in the works which will be my greatest undertaking yet. I can’t speak too definitively about it right now simply because I’m not producing/organizing it (which is kind of a relief), but if it doesn’t get deferred until 2017, it will begin this October. Stay tuned for that.

But, I’m kinda sorta almost hoping it does get deferred until next year because my back-up plan is pretty damn sweet too. I’ve started making some inquiries about this one but I can’t start making arrangements until my new passport comes in over the next couple weeks…

On the home front I am starting a collective which at this moment I am simply calling ACCESS. It will be a first furtive step in the direction of embodying a set of values important to me and my partners in the project, values such as sustainability, abundance, collaboration and skill-development to name a few. We are still selecting the property we wish to purchase for this endeavour, and there is a strict set of criteria it must meet, but I am confident we can have that portion of it sorted out before any departure I may be inclined undertake in the fall. This will be a long-term project that will grow and develop as my partners and I do, and I’m excited to begin living values that I have thus far just been discussing.

With regard to strictly creative endeavours, I’ve done something I’ve been meaning to for some time now which  is to lay down vocals for a hip-hop track. Director and Rapper, Matthew Luppino is producing it and it should be out over the next few weeks. I love rhyming and playing with words and so this is a long-overdue step. I want to challenge myself to write a few tracks a year as a way of harnessing this skill. I’m nice at writing bars. Now the world will see this.

Film-wise, I haven’t been applying for auditions but I have kept busy enough through referrals and the like, and for about a month of my time home I was pretty goddamn busy doing stunts on Blood & Fury: America’s Civil War. This latter was actually really important because it gave me that feeling of still being in the game which is so useful for combating feelings of idleness during this period of reflection.. But the whole time I’ve meditated constantly upon how to evolve. A seemingly obvious step would be to finally look into getting an agent but I’m not 100% sold on that…yet. I think there are other ways in which I can transcend where I’m at before I allow that influence into my life.

Finally I am going back out to comedy shows after a lengthy hiatus. This time however I am more aware of how I present myself on stage and going to try new means of delivering my ideas which will hopefully add to their efficacy.

Like I said earlier, I’m 31. I am LITERALLY in the prime of my life when all factors are taken into consideration. True, my body may have some wear and tear (I was in the army for 10 years), but that is mitigated by eating well and keeping fit. And really, from a physical fitness perspective, I’m still easily in the upper 20th percentile of North American men my age. But even if I wasn’t that lack would be offset by the fact that I’m smarter, wiser, more focused, more established and freer than I’ve ever been. I am at a singular moment in my life where I can do ANYTHING. So it’s very important that I don’t squander this time with vain pursuits because I will never be able to achieve like I can achieve now.

Evolve.

Best,
-Andre Guantanamo

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Filed under adventure, blog, consciousness, Critique, Deconstruction, entertainment, hamilton, Hip-Hop, opinion, philosophy, spirituality, travel

The Most Useless Threat There Is

Friends,

I’ve been lying awake all night in spite of what was a very tiring (and very good) Thursday yesterday.  I was gonna wait out the whole night and get up with the sun, but at 4am you just have to say fuck it, time to get up!  Lying in bed awake all night is one of those things that has been pretty common for me lately but I don’t react to insomnia with the same stress that I used to react to it with in the past.  This is primarily because I don’t have any pressing engagements that I have to be well-rested or up early for (shout-out to all my under-employed mafuccas with nothing to wake up for in the am lol).

Anyhow, I want to speak briefly about something that has been going through my head these last few hours as I stared up at my ceiling.  You see, the past two days I have had two people threaten to call the cops on me.  The first one was on Wednesday and it was this chick who always seems to be wandering in my apartment hallway, drifting between the apartments of two of my neighbours whom  I suspect whom I am very certain are drug addicts.  So right there I am convinced this girl is up to no good.  But she doesn’t cause any problems so I kind of just look at her with impotent disdain.  That is until two days ago when she wore out her welcome among my building’s residents but didn’t want to leave the building.  She kept hammering on my neighbour, Carol’s door and I could hear Carol telling her to go away.

At this point enough was enough; whatever chemical adventures Carol may or may not be into, she is a sweet lady and she has always been nice to me.  So I went into the hallway and the conversation I had with the girl had me asking her if she even lived in the building and if she could please stop knocking cause obviously Carol didn’t want her around and she was causing a disturbance.  This chick didn’t seem very bright to me and this was confirmed when she accused me of harassing her and said she would call the cops if I didn’t stop.

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I thought this was rich and volunteered to call the cops for her.  I think this threw her for a loop because she seemed positively relieved when Carol relented and let her in.

One important thing to note is that I handled this situation well; I didn’t antagonize her and I remained calm.

Fast forward to the next day (yesterday).

The day started off grey and overcast so when it got sunny and clear in the mid-afternoon I was all about getting to the park, getting my tan on , doing some yoga, and working on a monologue for an upcoming audition.  Now for the record, I bike wherever the fuck I want, and rather than let broad sweeping by-laws prohibiting sidewalk-biking define the parameters of where I cycle, I let common sense prevail and try to avoid the sidewalk if its crowded.

Bearing that in mind I was biking on the road and I crossed onto the sidewalk at a driveway 20 feet before the beginning of the park so as to avoid hopping the curb.  Now some crossing-guard who I had biked past saw me do this and yelled some shit.  I stopped and took out my earphones and he told me I had to get off the sidewalk to which I responded, “No, I don’t,” to which he responded, “Then you’ll get a fine!” to which I yelled back, “I won’t pay it,” as I biked away and into the park.

I settled somewhere in the middle of the park, unfurled my mat and wouldn’t you know it, when he saw that I had stopped, he tentatively thought it over a sec and made his way over to give me grief.

I’d like to tell you about it, but I happened to have my camera running (Please make sure you read the video description).

Picture 3

I think I ‘clonkered his bonkers’

So yeah, I moved up from harassment to blackmail apparently and unlike the chick from the day before, this guy actually made good on his threat to call the cops.

The cop was actually cool about it and he kind of seemed embarrassed to be there, inferring that decorum dictated he follow up on a complaint made by a fellow municipal worker in uniform.  I was sympathetic to the position he was in and I had since calmed down (notice how gassed I was in that video, especially at the beginning).  I explained that regardless of whether I thought that guy was out of line I should not have escalated it like I did.  The cop seemed to appreciate my earnestness; I can only imagine he has dealt with countless fucktards all too willing to take a trifling matter like this to the supreme court.  I told the cop I would go find the old man and apologize for letting the situation escalate (though not for biking on the sidewalk) but I never got the chance because he finished his shift before I finished frolicking in the park.

Now I’ve been in this lamentable position before: rewind to October 2012 and I entered Toys R’ Us looking for a Batman mask to complete my Bane costume,

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only to be stopped and told that I had to surrender my knapsack => I just realized that I detailed this encounter in an earlier post so I won’t rewrite it.  But the end result was the same as my encounter with Johnny Crossing-Guard: I was not in the wrong but I let my emotions get the best of me and I got suckered into a conflict.  As someone who sees a lot of civil disobedience in my future, I can’t afford to be so careless.

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I take ‘violence’ to mean even violent language and causing hurt feelings

When I mulled over this post in my preceding hours of insomnia, I had crafted the title to encapsulate a certain idea of how futile threats of calling the cops were (Threatening to call the cops is an ultimatum; a Hail Mary thrown by people with no power when they are in way over their heads.  Anyone who has a legit reason to call 5-0 simply calls 5-0).  However, now that this post is written I’m not really sure what it’s about.  Hmmm, let’s just say that the moral of the story is that I’m a badass who is above the law and I’m looking to go 3 for 3 today and hopefully get accused of something more serious than harassment or blackmail.

For serious though, be polite and respectful to everyone you meet even if they are being cunty.  I fact, if they are being cunty they probably need politeness and courtesy even more.

Best,

-Andre Guantanamo

P.S. I feel like I may have left the wrong impression with my contrasting attitudes toward the crossing-guard and the cop.  It’s not like I have less respect for crossing-guards; they perform a valuable service (within the context of our obsolete infrastructure and modes of transportation).  I was heated when the crossing-guard spoke with me and I had chilled out when the cop approached me.  Pus, the cop approached me respectfully and wasn’t barking orders and threats.

Most importantly, he was acting in the capacity of a peace officer, trying to keep John Q. Public from killing each other and whatnot.  Had he started trying to give me tickets and enforcing statutes and regulations there probably would have been a different dynamic to our conversation.  One hopes I would have behaved like an adult, not dishonouring myself, instead of like an idiot as I had a few minutes earlier.

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Sharing Scraps

My Friends,
   An earlier post from today detailed one part of my adventures from yesterday regarding the aftermath of a traffic collision.  This post could be considered its direct sequel, or perhaps a spiritual successor in that its concerns so-called “good intentions.”  However, in this case it was less about people using good intent as a mask for petty, retributive malice, and more about people honestly believing they were doing right and being obstinate toward the suggestion that there efforts might be misguided.
   As I walked away from the scene of the aforementioned collision,

More or less, exactly what I looked like walking away except I wasn’t wearing a leather jacket.

I approached that bastion of upscale retail, Jackson Square.  For those not familiar with Hamilton, Ontario, that would be sarcasm.
   Anyhow as I approached it I noticed two reps from “Because I am a Girl” soliciting sponsorship for third world girls.  One girl called to me as I was crossing the street.  I supposed I looked like an easy mark for a charity as my attire (yoga pants, yoga mat on backpack, FiveFingers shoes, lilac-coloured bandana and skateboard in tow) bespoke a left-leaning individual burdened with a goodly amount of liberal guilt.
   I let her run her pitch to me about some girl from whereverthefuck-istan who, through the efforts (money) of sponsors had risen to become the first female lawyer in her proud country.  FTR I don’t think too much of the legal profession but for this girl’s sake and since we were about to butt heads on more important issues I feigned like I was impressed by this young 3rd world girl’s achievement.  
   The chick giving me the speech, let’s call her Mary Sue, gave me the full sales pitch which included well-worn lines like:
“I’m gonna level with you, we’re out here fundraising today”
“It’s really not so much about the money” (a direct contradiction to the first line)
“Have you ever been to a developing country?” (I guess this was used as an icebreaker to gain my empathy)
When she had exhausted her supply of anecdotal stories about minor achievements in third world shit-holes (with me, all the while smiling politely and trying not to come off like a smug, cynical asshole ) she came out with it and asked me if I would like to support her cause.
I don’t know if she was taken aback by my frankness, but she asked me why so I began asking her why the hypothetical street girl turned lawyer was impoverished and she told me something indistinct about not enough schools.  When I asked her why there were no schools she said there was no one to build them.  I of course, asked why and she said she didn’t know and asked me if I knew.  Without getting too in-depth I explained (none too eloquently, as if often the case when your audience is not receptive) that the reasons for the impoverishment of the third world were structural and that in-the-box solutions like charities only helped a sick system limp on a little longer when it should be allowed to fail.  As I explained this her eyes seemed to glaze over.  I went on to talk about just like there was absolute poverty in some parts of the world there was relative poverty here in Canada which was also structural. Not grasping the distinction between absolute and relative, she started protesting that noone in Canada or the US was starving and they all had a place to sleep if they wanted it.  I wasn’t about to argue her on this point but I felt tempted to say “google any number of Indian reservations or Camden, NJ, or Detroit, MI or Baltimore, MD or Florida slavery.”  I didn’t mention these things because I wasn’t wanting to convey the notion that we should focus on domestic problems at the expense of international ones (the Libertarian platform) but rather that things are tough all over and that all of these problems are connected.  
   Like I said though she was unreceptive, and though the conversation remained cordial I don’t feel I expressed myself well.  The tragedy of the situation is that the world needs good people like her, filled with passionate intensity to do the right thing, but it needs them to be better educated about causality and what leads to poverty, crime, violence, and the abuse of females.  
   Me throwing what limited money I have at the problem is not gonna solve the problem.   That doesn’t mean that we should never use our monetary resources to help others.  By all means, buy someone a sandwich or a coffee or whatever, but understand that the more valuable gift is your time.  Real charity, that is to say, charity that actively works to bring about the day where charity is no longer required, does not require large, established foundations to redistribute cancerous debt-based currency after it has taken its cut.  It simply requires good, educated people to take account of the eventualities of their actions and modify their behaviour accordingly.
Stay Thirsty,
-Andre Guantanamo

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Robed in Good Intentions

My Friends,
   Yesterday was an interesting day for a few reasons but one particularly interesting happening was that I witnessed someone getting hit by a car.  Rather I witnessed the aftermath of someone getting hit by a car, which in some ways is worse.  Like I said, I didn’t actually see dude get hit by a car, instead I was walking north on James St. S when my reverie was interrupted by a woman yelling at a car “I SAW YOU! YOU HIT HIM! STOP! YOU HIT THAT MAN!”
   The car, which was stopped in the middle of the intersection as she yelled, completed its turn and pulled over.  A well-dressed young man stepped out and ran over to the man he allegedly had just hit.  The man was getting up kind of wobbly and mercifully the shrewish woman had ceased her rantings.
   I didn’t see anyone in a rush to dial 911 so I did and just mentioned that dude had gotten hit by a car and that he was on the other side of the road so I couldn’t tell if he was badly damaged.  In order to help the dispatcher out some, I walked over to the guy and confirmed that he was wiping some blood from his face but that I didn’t want to crowd him because he already had some people around him, not least of which the concerned motorist who allegedly hit him.
   As I approached to get a closer look for the sake of 911 the shrewish woman yelled to me “Did you see what happened?”  I looked at her with more disdain than was probably necessary and said “no.”  I explained to 911 that I wasn’t an eyewitness and I was looking to be on my way so I got off the phone with them and continued on my journey.  So ended my involvement in said matter.
   Now you have probably noticed my harsh sentiments toward the lady who originally caught my attention with her rantings.  What pissed me off about her was that she seemed to me like a no-account person who found herself in a position to be important for one day and seized upon it.  She seemed to be revelling in her importance and it would not surprise me if she recounted her role in this minor affair til her last days.  Like people who clamor for harsh, inhumane punishments for criminals, she seemed more interested in pointing out the guilt of the motorist than attending to the injured party (interestingly enough the person who seemed most concerned for the injured party was the motorist, although I concede that self-preservation may have been a factor here).
   I was reminded of the story of Orestes, son of Agamemnon, who killed his mother and uncle, after they had killed his father upon his return from the Trojan War.  Until he was cleared by the Gods, Orestes was tormented by the brass-clawed Furies who taunted him pointing out his guilt (Matricide) unyieldingly while clawed at him.  This woman was a Fury.  Her sole purpose seemed to be tormenting the “guilty party” and to me there’s no merit in that because it does nothing to make things better.
   I don’t know the outcome of the accident/investigation but my primary hope is that the injured party had no severe injuries and if he did that they will be addressed.  My secondary hope is that the motorist, probably someone who just made a mistake rather than a malicious misanthrope, does not have egregious legal fees and life disturbances to deal with on account of one lapse in judgement.  My third hope, and it is almost foolish to hope for given how unlikely it seems, is that the woman who drew my attention to the occurrence realizes that pointing out guilt and blame and ostracizing offenders does nothing to make the world a better place.  Like I said, I won’t hold my breath on that last one.
Stay Thirsty,
-Andre Guantanamo

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Joblessness, NASCAR, and Cheap Pants

My Friends,
   Slow week for news.  So lemme break it down real quick:

Stayin’ on my Grizzy
   So far the job-hunt has had mixed success.  I have yet to receive a call-back and when I did a telephone follow-up to the one place which seemed promising, the manager I wanted to speak with wasn’t there.  Then I went to a job-fair yesterday, or what I thought was going to be a job-fair.  It was being held at the new Turtle Jack’s location in Burlington and google led me to believe that there would be a plethora of employers just waiting to hire me on.  As it was, the building was still under construction and there was a table of TJ’s managers doing interviews for the opening of that specific location.  It was a bit of a letdown because there was no point of me applying there (far end of Burlington + unreliable bussing).  It wasn’t a total loss though; I was with my little brother who, although gainfully employed, was looking to upgrade from the deli he works in to something in the restaurant industry, preferably front of the house.  As they insisted he fill out an application to supplement his resume, we sat a table for a while while he started (tentatively/painfully) filling one out and eventually I just grabbed his application, threw it aside and re-did a fresh one for him on my own.  If he gets the job he’ll basically owe me for life.
   The biggest news in the job front is that I got an advertising gig which may or may not be a volunteer position.  The military family support group Canadian Heroes is entering a NASCAR car into the Daytona 500 next month

and when I contacted the founder looking to be involved in an advertising capacity he delegated/commissioned me to write the history of the first NASCAR dedicated to Canadian soldiers as a way to spread awareness.  As well as not being an advertising job proper, it was also a more latitude than I was expecting with my relative inexperience, but I have always said “you gotta walk before you can crawl,” so I’ll take it as an opportunity.  I’ve spent the last couple of days brainstorming what exactly I am going to do and I think I know the angle I will approach it from.  Hopefully by the time of the next entry I have some words on paper.

IRS’ing Myself
   Now that my most recent credit card statement has been issued, I have been able to audit myself and find out just how much my last foray into the world cost me.  The final number, including immunization/travel prescriptions, flights, trains/busses, equipment, cash advances, consular fees, and everything else was $7913.64.  This is about $1500 – $2000 more than I had planned on spending in my initial budget, which I now see was kind of unrealistic.  Still, its over a thousand dollars lower than the figure I thought it would be toward the trip’s end.  And really, for 107 days that’s not too bad.

Clothes Make the (Grown) Man
  Operation: Upgrade Wardrobe began inauspiciously this weekend with the purchase of $11 khakis from Winners.  I don’t think I have owned khakis since the 90s.  Does this mean I dressed better as a kid…

Hmmmm…..

…than I have so far as an adult?
Entirely Fucking Possible!

In addition to my bawss new non-jeans, I also stole a belt and a button-up shirt from my dad which made me respectable enough to go to aforementioned job-fair and fill out my brother’s application for him.  So that’s something.
I solemnly swear that even if I have to staple my cock to my leg and then attempt to pass through a metal-detector undetected, I will have something more interesting to talk about next time around.
Stay Thirsty,
-Andre Guantanamo
   
   

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Naivete and The Lonely Road called "Follow-Through"

Last night I infiltrated a group of criminals who had some vague plans for crime (go figure).  As I worked with them I began to laugh and joke with them and respect them as people.  Suddenly my plan to bring them to justice became complicated.
I think this is the problem for those who want to “change things from the inside;” to get inside you necessarily have to conform with norms.  When and if you finally get into a position where you have influence over the way things are, you have likely become so ingratiated to and dependant on how the way things are that you balk at change.

Essentially, you become “Toruk Makto”

My Friends,
  Two evenings ago I attended an alumni mixer for my alma mater.  It was a pleasant affair, with free drinks and food. Had I known that being alumni would have such perks (recent alum are also being offered a free course which I will not be able to take advantage of due to travel plans) I would not have taken 7 years to graduate.

-“A lot of people go to college for seven years.”
‘-Yeah, they’re called “doctors” ‘

Although I had fun and met some cool people I kind of felt like an odd man out.  Most people there who were my age (26 going on 27) had already not only graduated, but done a post-graduate degree, law school, and/or started a career.  In fact, many people a lot younger than me were already finishing up grad school and starting careers.  Bearing that in mind I was a little self-conscious when people asked me about myself.  Now for the record, I try to ignore social pressure. or the idea that my life should conform to some idea or some schedule, but I can’t help it sometimes; I feel like I have to qualify myself to others for their approval.  That said, the people I talked to were not there to impress or outdo each other, as they are in certain engagements I have previously attended, but instead listened attentively without trying to one-up me.  It was an unexpected relief, but it was a relief that came with its own set of problems.
   While speaking with one gentleman we got on to the topic of me (a field I consider myself an expert in) and through the course of conversation he learned about some of my exploits, works in progress and future plans.  He seemed genuinely impressed and said quite earnestly, “wow, you’re like my hero.”  As much as I like to be appreciated, I handle it awkwardly sometimes.  I kind of just broke eye contact and mumbled something about how the trade-off for an adventure-filled life was being a 26 year-old undergrad with no career to speak of.  He reassured me that there was no rush and that given the chance to do things again, he probably would have taken time off like I did to gain some more life experience.  As encouraging as it is to hear that someone admires your lifestyle, you still have to wonder why more people don’t do what is apparently so admirable, namely taking their sweet ass time with growing up and getting a real job.*
   I don’t think its fear, as that would imply that I am somehow braver than others.  Not the case.  I can say without exception that the most important adventures I have had in my life have been terrifying for me either for the inherent danger or the abysmal loneliness. (more on loneliness later)
   I don’t think its aversion to travelling or adventures either, as most people I talk to seem to view the general idea of “travel” as a universally positive thing.  
   In a lot of cases, especially among younger folk I think there is a problem with being beholden to someone else for your livelihood.  Parents tend to canalize the aspirations of their children and shoehorn them through the path of least resistance so that the children can propagate the cycle of maturity-breeding-dying in an expedient and streamlined manner.  And when these parents hold the purse-strings (ps travelling can cost money), the dependant has to play on their terms even if their inclinations are contrary to the the beaten path.
   In spite of the allusion to expense I just made, I don’t think that cost is a big deterrent.  While travelling  can be expensive, it by no means has to be.  Certainly adventures can be had on the cheap just by finding a “No Entry” sign and entrying entering.
Everything happens in high-definition beyond the “No-Entry” sign

And let’s be honest, when has cost ever deterred people from pouring money into something with no foreseeable financial return?  Dining out, movies, automobiles …. people are well accustomed to dropping money into things that aren’t profitable.
   I could continue speculating but ultimately everyone is different and they all have their reasons for what they do or don’t do.  Yet whatever it is that deters people from taking the scenic route in life it has left me feeling kind of alienated.  As I prepare to go hitch-hiking around the globe this Septober I can’t help but wish I had a travelling companion; someone else with a cavalier attitude toward the daily grind who would take six months to traipse about the globe simply cause it makes good sense.
Why do what most do? Do what you s’poseto…

But instead I am forced to go it alone again.
   Getting back to the title of this entry, I have a certain naivete that, while inconvenient, has served me well.  Essentially, I take people seriously.  When someone has an awesome idea my reaction is typically “let’s make that about to happen.”  But depending on how much time and effort the idea will take they will put it off or disavow it completely while I remain enchanted by the prospect and resolved to do it.
   Most of my greatest adventures weren’t my ideas.
   Compounding this problem is the fact that I am averse to bullshit; If I said I’m going to do it I’m going to do it or at least give it the old college try.
“Your word was everything, so everything you said you’d do, You DID It
couldn’t talk about it if you ain’t live it”
-Jay-Z
I am very afraid to go around the world by myself but I am even more afraid to be called out for talking shit.  I am most afraid of putting off indefinitely something I want to do because it is inconvenient or dangerous. (that’s a slippery slope)  Fear can be a powerful motivator I suppose.  But if its my fear that enables me to face my fears then so be it; I’ll go it alone taking what solace I can in the fact that others would have liked to be there with me but they were just too brave.
Stay Thirsty
-Andre Guantanamo
   

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Breaking the Ice

My Friends,
   Today in preparation for an upcoming excursion around the globe I ventured to the travel clinic to receive vaccinations.  Whilst waiting in the aptly named “waiting room” I overheard a frustrated, middle-aged receptionist commiserating with her co-worker about patients demanding estimations of expected wait times over the phone.  “The wait will last until someone calls you in,” she went on, speaking the words she wished she could have said to the caller instead of the more placating answer she likely gave him.  The great irony in this is that noone, the receptionist included, wants their time wasted.  So we cannot fault someone for trying to plan their day and asking for a time estimation; but should we indulge them?
   I understand the importance of timings; they provide structure and allow the world as we know it to function (for better or worse) but for far too many people (regrettably, myself included more often than not), life is nothing but a series of timings: be at work for 9, pick up the kids at 6, dinner at 630.  It all seems a little mundane but we can justify it because we all think we are working for something better.
   Do you know what that “better” is?  I do.  It is the day when we don’t have to have our timings dictated to us and we are free to live as we please.  But we’ll never get there.  Because as stultifying to our flourishing existence on this planet as the rigidity of timings is, it also provides a modicum of security and stability; two things people feel lost without.  Therefore, people, even those who answer to noone, will always be slaves to the self-imposed rigidity of timings because it is, like a well-worn pair of underwear that has served you well, something that is difficult to part with.
   I opt to go without the proverbial underwear and forsake these timings.  If I must rush for something, let it be something I eagerly anticipate.  If I am late for something they will wait for me or they won’t; either way, I’ll be fine.  If I am early for something that gives me extra time to read something interesting or plot an escape route should things get out of hand (depending on the type of appointments you book). In short, inasmuch as possible, we should be attempting to throw off the twin yokes of imposed timings and obligations and revel in the time we can free up for ourselves.  If we don’t learn to live life on our own schedule now we will never know how to do it.
Stay Thirsty,
-Andre Guantanamo

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