"Poisonous Nostalgia" and the Fear of Having Missed Out

A January, 2014 opinion piece from The Daily Beast can be summed up in this paragraph:

' In every issue,New York magazine asks a notable New Yorker a series of questions, including the standard “Which do you prefer, the old Times Square or the new Times Square?” To cite a random recent example, actress and West Village denizen Patricia Clarkson offered the expected and acceptable answer: “Old Times Square. It just didn’t seem like a theme park.” Because there is a correct answer, of course. '

It's an interesting read, and no doubt a provocative one if you are of the opinion that "Old New York" is better than current New York. For me, it speaks to a powerful kind of malaise that seems to jump out from the shadows from time to time - a fear that I have missed out something better, cooler, more interesting, or more fulfilling.

I experienced this when I moved to Austin and was told by friends who had lived there for some years that the city was less fun that it had been before. It was hard for to imagine that was the case, since I had no problem finding enjoyable places to be. It has been a similar experience moving to New York, though I half expected it to be this way. A lot of the people I know here have a distinct look on their faces when they talk about how it used to be here - wistful, sad, and very, very, nostalgic. 

Growing up, I had always imagined that somewhere, people were having incredible experiences. They were seeing the best bands, having the wildest parties, accumulating stories that could fill the pages of a lurid book. I don't often feel like this anymore, as I can happily say I have had some experiences that I wouldn't trade for anything. I really do believe that you can control how exciting or fulfilling your life is. Yet it is hard to hear people talk about the good old days with such awe and fervor without feeling some jealousy. 

I have no idea what it was like to live here, especially as a teenager. All the Lou Reed and Cro Mags songs in the world can't really tell the whole story of what growing up in the dirtier, older version of New York was like. I simply won't permit myself to become despondent over a nostalgia that doesn't belong to me. 

I do know that I felt a sharp discomfort walking around Union Square a few days ago, when I happened to look at a painting being sold by a local artist. It was a scene of a city street, a lot like something you might see on a New Yorker cover, only it showed a busy corner Starbucks, right next door to a Papa John's. Consider that for a moment. That corner Starbucks, next to a Papa John's - that scene might as well be from my hometown. After all, the Papa John's at which I worked in high school is next to a Starbucks in a suburban strip mall. Now, sadly, we can have the experience of the suburbs here in New York City. No matter if you yearn for the days of Taxi Driver or think Giuliani was a great mayor, I think we could all agree that New York is supposed to be a city apart. This is meant to be a place like none other. What was the point of moving here if I could have just lived anywhere else?

On our phones and out of our heads

I am now old enough to remember how things used to be. Cars looked different, people wore clothing that looked different, and, most crucially, we didn't all have cell phones.

Perhaps it should be no shock that we now find ourselves incapable of going anywhere without our phones for even a minute. People seem genuinely unable to be doing anything without recording and sharing something with anybody who will notice. Dinners, trips to the park, and sadly, concerts/events - every moment people spend in any of these scenarios is captured and broadcast.

Concerts are the worst. As soon as an artist comes on the stage, out come the phones. Phones are getting larger, so when concert-goers do this, they obstruct the view of anyone behind them. There is also a particular breed of degenerate who will use their tablet to take videos. It drives me insane.

The worst part is, these people are wasting the money they spent on tickets, and missing the spontaneity of the performance they are attending, preferring instead to upload the video to Facebook or post the picture on Instagram, or whatever the hell it is they're doing.

Are modern humans incapable of experiencing anything anymore? Is it too much to bare, just enjoying something while it happens?

Evidently, the frustration many feel nowadays will soon become a thing of the past - rather than struggling to access social media in a black hole that inevitably emerges at festivals and other large events, venues will soon begin providing wireless systems to make such urgent communications more accessible. What a relief!

The only solution is to throw your drink. Just aim at the person blocking your view, and try to land your half finished beer square in the middle of their screen. I doubt they'll keep their phone up much longer.

Job Hunting

I am looking for work. Still. The holiday slow-down seems to be in full effect. It's never a good idea to have so much free time you can spend stressing out about this stuff.

Meditations on the World's Fair

Were you aware that the Worlds Fair was still a thing? If you didn't, you aren't alone. Awareness of what are today generally referred to as World Expositions would seem, at least anectdotally, to be quite low.

Well, maybe that's not quite accurate. Awareness of the 2010 Word Expo, held in Shanghai, seems to have been no issue at all. Approximately 70 million people attended the event between May and October of that year. Other World Expos have also had large turnouts, in terms of both visitors as well as participants.

So I suppose that what I really meant to say was that awareness of these events is at an all time low in the United States.

New York City hosted World's Fairs in 1939 and 1964/65. The remnants of these still stand in Flushing Meadows Park, in Queens. The structures are impressive, even if they have largely been left to decay, and parts of the Park which were designed for the event are still evident. Recent visits to Flushing have made me think about the meaning of World's Fairs, and why these events seem to have disappeared from the American consciousness.

The Unisphere, erected for the 1964/65 NY World's Fair, was an engineering marvel

World's Fairs have long been intended to showcase a nation's achievements in science, technology, agriculture, engineering, exploration, and ultimately, their power in general. The Fairs became popular during the late 19th century, when technological advances allowed many industries to grow and change rapidly, and in the case of the US, seem to have culminated with displays of mid-century space-race prowess. Governments, companies, and various organizations take the opportunity to showcase their greatness in various fields, and large structures are normally built for both practical reasons (pavilions intended to house the displays,) as well as for symbolic reasons - the Eiffel Tower was built for the 1889 World's Fair.

Over time, participation in the Fairs became expensive. In some cases, governments have been reluctant to pay membership to the International Exhibitions Bureau, the body which sanctions Expos. Many Fairs have become travesties, their operating companies going bankrupt as a result of the huge costs associated with putting them on. Some Fairs have even gone bankrupt while the event was taking place. 

The US has not hosted an Exposition since the 1980s. However, Expos continue to take place across the globe, and though there is almost always an American presence at them, no one here ever seems to know that these proceedings are even happening. I am not convinced too many people even care.

Does this country even still have achievements it wishes to showcase? We scarcely make anything at all here, so industrial technology is more of a novelty nowadays. As the Europeans were landing a probe on a comet, the authorities here were sifting through the ashes of a commercial spaceflight test that went awry - our national space race has been handed off to private enterprises willing to take the risk so that people may one day fly slightly outside of the Earth's atmosphere at great cost. It's not exactly the kind of thing that would make people as excited as, let's say, the Apollo missions. 

The US does still produce a lot in terms of technology. I would be willing to guess that there has been far greater attention paid by the press in recent years to "Mobility Week." Evidently, this is a convention that showcases everything related to mobile technology, and is expected to draw tens of thousands to it's upcoming convention in Las Vegas. As impressive as the science and engineering behind mobile technology may be, I can't say that I would find it as inspirational as seeing a manned spacecraft. I am not even sure I would find it more interesting than a trip to the T Mobile store down the road from me. I think this would be the case for any number of internet technology conventions or auto shows that routinely take place all over the United States 

Views of the Pavilion and Observation Towers

There is no question that this country leads the world in technology. Perhaps it is my own sense of how mundane and ordinary such technologies are that makes feel this way. It just seems that being the best at apps or social media is not the same as the endeavors to which we were committed in the past. It may also be the case that some of our greatest scientific and academic achievements are not widely being celebrated in our news media. Perhaps we are also overlooking impressive accomplishments in architecture, where American architects still compete with designers from other countries for bragging rights. But why? Why would we look past all the things we still do so well? Are we just too used to being at the top?

That might explain why Astana and Shanghai are cities in which you might find a World Expo. Developing economies and societies appear to be much more focused on telling the world that they are achieving great things. India has made impressive advances in it's space program, China has become an economic powerhouse, and countries like Kazakhstan look as if they have bright futures. Might this be a case of an aging power readying itself for retirement? Is the US looking to accomplish anything else? Are we looking to engage with or lead the world in any other fashion than with our military? More to the point, will we always be a nation that puts little value on events that happen far away from us? That might explain why some viewed our showing in Shanghai as being less than stellar:

In the end, the US Pavilion offers no vision of the future. Like so many of the busted malls at home that it so closely resembles, the US Pavilion is fragmentary and momentary, not the beacon of hope the Expo hosts expected or that the American people deserve. For a long time, pre-opening polls listed the (in concept) US Pavilion as the most highly anticipated attraction for Chinese Expo-goers, after the giant red China Pavilion. No longer. A week before the Expo, China Daily, the nation's official paper, has removed the US Pavilion from its list of important things to visit and see at the Expo.

I may be reading too deeply into this. I may also be attaching greater significance to World's Fairs/Expos than I need to. It just seems like if everyone else is taking great pains to show the entire globe that their society is engaged in something big, we might want to do so as well. I sometimes wonder if Americans don't care to attach importance to this kind of global exchange, as if being unaware or uninterested in what everyone else is doing is part of our national character. It's a bit like calling it a World Series because one city in Canada may have a shot at celebrating. In this case, however, everyone else is playing, and we don't even realize the game is taking place. 

I am willing to concede I may be wrong, but I am not convinced that too much of what we do or produce as a nation is all that inspirational, or that when it is, it is not celebrated in any meaningful way. I hope that changes. Surely we need more to be proud of than just events from our past. What will we say in the future if we don't share our current accomplishments with the whole world?

Sculptures, Mosaics, and Inscriptions at Flushing Meadows Park

As Winter Approaches

Again I have gotten caught up with many things. But as the temperature drops, I am reminded of how much I like winter in NYC. As per a reader request, here are some pictures from last years very long, very snowy winter season.

I have some other articles in the works, and I can promise there is more to come for this blog.

I present to you - a City Snake in the Snow, as seen in Astoria Park.

I have more snakes to share with you, and more things to complain about, more to follow soon!

Saying nothing on 9/11

I could sit here and write about where I was that day 13 years ago. I could talk about what our country has been like since that fateful day. I could reflect on the lives lost or the wars fought or the question of our safety and security. I could put forward or refute some conspiracy theories regarding the events of September 11th, 2001.

I plan on doing none of those things.

It has been a while since I have written anything. When I last posted something it was about how the modern world kind of sucks, and the way 9/11 is commemorated is most certainly an example of that. There is no denying the magnitude of that day and of the events that followed. It changed our national story and affected people across the globe, so it's understandable that we would all be made very aware of what day it is. However, it seems like there is less effort spent on reflection or commemoration than on making statements that let the world know that we are reflecting and commemorating. Does that make sense?

I suppose what I am trying to say is that we live in a world where reflection is a thing used to take self portraits, as opposed to an active method of listening to ourselves.

To me, reflection means slowing down and really thinking about something. It means considering a subject deeply and personally. It ultimately requires us to come to terms about how something affects us, or how an event has shaped us. I believe reflection is an action, but one that requires focus. To reflect, we need to be still. Unfortunately, that is becoming harder to do.

Every little thing gets shared with the world now. Every moment, no matter how banal, is broadcast to anyone who will listen. Before anyone accuses me of singling out friends on Facebook who wrote something heartfelt about 9/11, I'll remind you that most media outlets report on trends they see on Twitter, which is why today, for some reason, I saw a headline that read "Area sports teams remember 9/11 with #NeverForget". The story details how High School sports teams have used Twitter to mark the occasion. That's not a story. It's nothing. It is a waste of time and bandwidth to even publish something like that. There's nothing there that indicates anyone reflected on anything, only that the teams used a hashtag to remind everyone what day it is. That really isn't anything, is it?The "article" does have a paragraph that made me double to check to see if it was from a parody site. I have added bold print for emphasis, though it isn't really necessary:

Hagerty High Sports called for action saying, “Let’s do more than a moment of silence today, instead talk constantly about 9/11 and how it affected you and others #NeverForget.”

Could there be a better example of what I mean?

The lack of reflection goes beyond social media and smart phones and all the other stuff the kids like and I hate. We live in a society where someone is always trying to sell you something or make you aware of their brand. National tragedies may once have been off limits, but that time seems to be behind us now. Last year, AT&T was forced to offer an apology after they ran an ad that people felt was exploitative. To be honest, I feel like this is probably one of the less horrendous kinds of 9/11 marketing I have seen. But that hasn't stopped a number of companies from doing the same this year. Evidently there few companies as patriotic and reflective as FleshlightFleshlightFleshlight.

This kind of thing seems to be everywhere. Who can forget a local Marriots sincere desire to remember the fallen - "In remembrance of those we lost on 9/11 the hotel will provide complimentary coffee and mini muffins from 8.45 - 9.15am." 

Consider that for a moment. Whoever concocted this tribute could not slow down and reflect long enough about the days importance,  a half hour of muffins and coffee would be seen as some kind of statement. This is Kennedy-getting-shot moment for this period in history, a day where everyone can remember where they where when they learned about the attacks. A day that changed everything for our entire nation - commemorated with miniature pastries and watered down coffee.

A visit to ground zero and the newly opened 9/11 museum offers little by way of reflection. The reflecting pools are beautiful, and the site, now open to the public without a wait is actually a very nice space. I really cannot imagine how else the site could have been used. Yet it is a noisy, crowded place that gave me an unsettling feeling when I visited in June.

Because of the nature of the events that took place there, it draws many tourists, much as Civil Way battlefields do. They come, by the thousands, to look at the footprints of what were, at one time, the tallest buildings in the world. But they are there, with screaming children in tow, smiling for the camera and taking selfies, as if they were in front of Niagara Falls. I wanted to be mad about it, but as nice the memorial is, it is a lot like a park. There are benches, there is grass, large fountains. Set at the foot of the nearly-complete Freedom Tower, the memorial serves as the only large expanse of open space south of Central Park. Aside from a few guards who remind people not to climb on the wall of names that surrounds each fountain, there is nothing to suggest that ground zero is a place of reflection. It's merely an attraction.

To be completely honest, I have no idea if the September 11th museum is much better, as I have not been. But it would not be a truly American place if it did not have a gift shop. No trip to the depths of national anguish would complete without a hoodie, a keyring, or a baseball hat. It was the 9/11 cheese plate, however, that convinced me never to go. Seriously, take a look at that link. There is simply no time to reflect when there are so many opportunities to capitalize on your visitors. So, today, I am saying nothing. Not on Facebook, not on Twitter, not even here. I would rather sit silently with my own thoughts. Staying present and still are things that I already struggle with as it is, but I would hate for a reflective moment to be completely vanish amid the noise and the sales and tweets.

A new sense of dread

It's hard to put my finger on when I started feeling this way, but I think the modern world kind of sucks.

Now, I am no Luddite, and I certainly enjoy the comforts of contemporary living. Air conditioning is currently my favorite example. I also enjoy modern medicine, modern conveyances (primarily the subway,) and a great number of modern ideas.

But it really seems like there is no mystery anymore. It seems like it's a lot of the same stuff everywhere you go. You see the same stores, see the same cars, eat the same food, hear the same jokes, hear the same music.

This might be all in my head. I tend to have a desire to be in another place or another time fairly often. I would like to not romanticize the past so much, and I certainly don't think everything about society or day to day was superior in another time. I just can't shake the feeling that we are missing something from our lives collectively.

I really worry about people these days. We all seem so unable to look up from our phones. I saw a lady get on an escalator at Grand Central with her phone out. The escalator was not working, but she just stood there, waiting to go down. People were having to move around her, and she did not seem to realize that she was completely in the way. I cannot think of a situation that sums up these vague feelings better than that.

I feel like I am going to start exploring this notion further in the coming weeks. NYC is a great place to think about all this. People howl that "old New York" is disappearing, and while I wouldn't know first hand if that is true or not, I often find myself thinking that maybe it's true. Maybe New York is turning into all the other places I have lived. Sadly, I am not so sure it is happening just here. Those other places, like Austin and the San Francisco Bay Area, are slowly starting to resemble every other place.

Are corporate interests, advertisers, and developers to blame? Probably, but I doubt exclusively. Are individuals, with a love of distraction (Facebook) and convenience to blame? Sure, though there must be other reasons.

I am going to keep thinking about this. I am going to keep thinking about why this bothers me so much, and what I think I can do in the face of a modern world so intent on mediocrity and homogeny.

City Snakes are known to molt throughout the summer. An adult has shed it's skin and continued on it's way.