Writing

Connecting By Disconnecting

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The world feels like it’s exploding.

If you are like me, you are constantly fighting with yourself between staying informed even at the risk of marinating your brain in Sensationalist Hate Broth of social media, and burying yourself in tiny comforts and ignorance until it goes away.

I have my own opinions of Israel vs. Hamas, and since October 10th I have felt the need to share them as loud as possible. Maybe, just maybe, at the cost of my peace of mind and sanity I could get people to stop being pissy and angry and screaming past each other so that maybe- MAYBE- we could all make sure the violence, madness, and death stops.

Wasn’t gonna happen. There’s room for every voice and opinion on the internet, but social media in particular isn’t built for connection or communication. It’s built for engagement- for keeping us doomscrolling and “interacting” and staring at ads and being on the platform for as long as possible.

Things that make sense don’t help that. Patience, compassion, complexity, and nuance don’t jive with that goal. Anger, rage, hate, pain, and self-righteousness do. After marinating in that hellbroth for way too long on a false hope, I made the call to back off for my own sake. I post for this blog, I answer messages, and (every now and then) I watch funny videos. That’s it.

There’s ways to bring happiness and reason to the world, but screaming on social media sure as shit isn’t one of them. By backing off, you get the brainspace and emotional bandwidth to find them on your own.

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Nothing Dies For No Reason- #SupportSmallBusiness

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Emily is about to go back to work as schools reopen for the fall semester. Yesterday we hit our favorite food pod for what Emily realized would be the last time she could meet me for a post-shift beer for the semester, and today we hit up a street fair.

Sitting in Belmont Station afterward for beer and writing, flush with the book, pins, stickers, and such we bought from local artists and businesses, I can’t help but think of some of the conversations we’ve had with and about the business owners we know.

One woman is at a farmers market and she makes Haitian marinades and sauces we love. The other day, Emily went by herself and Elsy handed her a new product. “Your husband is going to love this one.”

The owner of one of my favorite taprooms, when I asked for take-home recommendations, would look at the menu and go “I know you go for darker and sour beers, but your wife is gonna love this amber…”

Corporations are not people. Small Businesses are. Small business who have regulars, who know your name and who you build relationships with.

When they vanish, it’s not enough to just write a pseudo-political screed on social media or go “Awww but they’ve been there for so long and they were so good!”

If they were so good… why didn’t you buy from them?

Stickers (and a Monk Class pin) from Hundred Lily
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Jimmy Buffett and a Meditation on Heroes

/ The Black Hat Baker / 2 Comments

He’s the admiral of the ocean
the lone eagle in the sky.
He gave me my first sextant
and he taught me how to fly
I saw him through my telescope
on a cloudless night in June
as he rested between voyages
at his Beach House on the Moon

– Jimmy Buffett, “Beach House on the Moon”

There is no internship for becoming a writer. All we have is the writers and creators we love, their body of work, the will to dive into it voraciously and- ideally- add our own selves to the mix. Back in high school, one of my teachers encouraged all of us to find our literary “genealogies.” We should pick our favorite writers, find their favorite writers and read all their work, then find their favorite writers, and so dive deep into the sources of our own styles.

At the time Mr. Murphy charged us with this task, the majority of my literary heroes were long dead and their heroes were Early Modern or even antiquity. The only remotely contemporary writers I enjoyed at the time were Kerouac and Langston Hughes.

As I sit in a thankfully unfamiliar dive bar patio sipping a memorial margarita, I know that one of my influences has passed on and, in a strange way, I’m glad I never got to meet him.

Fins Up, Parrotheads.

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A Needed Break

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It rained last night. The tiny puddles on the furniture of the screened-in patio tell that clearly enough, and there is still the smell of petrichor in the air beneath the smell of pine in the pre-dawn humidity. I’m back on the East Coast, visiting my in-laws in South Carolina, and the weather of the southeast is both oppressive and comforting- like an old friend who can’t help but keep mentioning how much both of you have changed.

As the previous two weeks of work came to a close- preparing for a massive event, the increasing tempo of business, and preparing my small team (and the kitchen itself) for my absence- I dragged myself into the first of two too-cheap-for-their-price plane seats and quoted the Magnus Archives again. “I have done my work well, and none may ask more of me.”

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An Update of Sorts

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“I’ve got a school boy heart, a novelist’s eye,
stout sailors legs and a license to fly.”

– Jimmy Buffet, “School Boy Heart”

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about how I manage my creative life, it’s that I still tend to have too many irons in the fire at once and that choosing which projects to work on feels like picking favorites. I always wind up emotionally attached and guilty.

I’m sitting next to my friend Tom’s truck, having just scarfed down a weekend PREC and spent the better part of the morning exercising and deciding how best to move through the rest of the day. There are the typical chores to do, laundry and attending to the hot mess that is my nightstand in particular. The drive to socialize and avoid extended isolation as well, partially being allayed now with the warm sun, quiet company of a public space, and the classic blues and jazz coming through Tom’s speakers.

The will to write is strong, but the focus- or choice of focus rather- is not. Rereading some food writing has invigorated me, and writing this blog continues to at the very least be good practice and keeping me in the habit. I have several projects overdue, however, and I need to hunker down and pick one of them- ANY of them- to lock myself into.

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