That guy. I am he.
Me. Today.
Driving to Starbucks with the little Pinatas for a little hot chocolate. Radio on. Kelly Clarkson's "Walk Away" comes on. They ask me to crank it up. I do.
I am driving, in my minivan, with Kelly Clarkson blasting from the speakers, on my way to Starbucks. And, to be honest, it's quite fun and I'm enjoying myself, the company of my kids, and the loud, luminescent pop sheen of Ms. Clarkson's song.
Indeed, I am that guy.
posted by Kevlar Pinata @ 10:06 PM
5 comments
5 Comments:
HA!
Nice.
Suburbia strikes a blow and the victim is Kevlar Pinata.
A friend of mine lived in San Francisco for a while, and SF is to the west coast what Manhattan is to the east coast: the annointed capitol of all things hip. He came to visit me in San Diego (perhaps the Charlotte, North Carolina of the east coast?) and told me that his friends were lamenting SD's existence because it's just so suburban, safe, and unhip. And, apart from the unhipness of SD, which is arguably true, I like the suburban safety. I lived in Miami for 9 years and grew tired of dodging bullets.
I don't have an east coast parallel for LA. It is its own odd animal. (And note that I didn't say that SF is the equivalent of greater NYC - it's just Manhattan.)
For what it's worth, I crave the 'burbs. I mock because I can, but I'd be there with you if I could be.
I lived in Miami (yes, with machine gun sounds no more than a block away), then I lived in Jersey City and worked in Manhattan. Then I lived in Chicago. Then Jersey again. Then Chicago again.
This year, I spend an hour on a very loud and packed el train, which then turns in to a very loud and more-packed subway. Then I come up above ground and walk a block and a half underneath the el train junction where five train lines converge. Constant trains literally over my head. It's the city, so the street traffic is pretty nutty and loud. The 30 or 40 story building next to where I work is being tuck pointed, which is loud, and there's a construction site where people like to use jackhammers. This is all within a block and a half.
That's my morning.
Then, at night, the sirens on my street are pretty frequent and unbelievably loud.
I dig the city. I really do.
But I crave just a little more quiet. My sensitive musician ears can't take it any more.
Kevlar I actually think you are the new hipster. And San Diego is the new Ibiza.
This is me flying over a suburban neighborhood DEAD.
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