The L Train is for “Love”; The F Train is for….

Each morning, I get on the L Train at 14th street and 1st Ave. It’s a short but nice walk for me through Tompkins Square Park and up Avenue A and across to 1st near Stuyvesant Town. I put in my (now deceased) pair of Skullcandy headphones that I received from Skullcandy back in the day, and I just cruise along to whatever band has captured my attention. Depending on the time that I get there, I am either greeted with my fellow early morning New Yorkers or I’m part of the huddled masses that are making their morning commute. It’s not my ideal form of transportation (and I take taxis often), but it works and isn’t that bad.

What makes it even better are the people that I’m huddled with. I don’t know if it’s simply the amount of people on the train or the fact that I live in an attractive neighborhood but not a day goes by without me becoming infatuated with a fellow passenger on the train. I’ve written notes so that I can remember the details for often-unpublished forays into the Craigslist “Missed Connections” section. It’s the full-fledged fantasy voyage for someone like me – a outgoing people watcher who pines for the chance encounter with love.

The funny thing, I realize that the train ride is superficial and just a fantasy.  Sure, I can see a beautiful girl and look at her flawless skin, cute fashion sense, and intelligent yet not pretentious book choice and think “wow, I would like her” but in reality, I don’t know anything about her. In accordance to “Sketch Theory” (Post on that coming soon), I create a full personality filling the gaps with the things I want in a person. She’s no longer the person sitting on the L across from me – she’s a fantasy. She’s something that, in all likelihood, could never exist. Perhaps should never exist.  As I embark headstrong into the 30th year of my life, I am starting to realize that all the fantasies and desires of my twenties are not the ideal to be chasing.  With all the complexities of human relationships, the seeking of perfection is as much of an albatross to successful relationships as the literal one the mariner carried around his neck.

In New York, the fantasy surrounds you daily.  Even right now, I am sitting in a coffee shop in the East Village surrounded by beauty of all shapes and sizes.  I see the laugh of the coffee shop barista and smile – imagining that in different, potentially intimate scenarios.  As I exited my taxi the other day, a tall, striking brunette with a British accent that I had never seen before asked if I was her neighbor.  That short interaction made me pine for a longer conversation – a fantasy one.  Fantasy bombards people daily – it’s the allure of the city.  My friends that suffer from Peter Pan syndrome and never grow up are seduced by such things.  Perhaps I may too – only a few months into this rediscovery of New York and I can’t help but fall in love daily.  I just need to remind myself that it’s all fantasy…..

**FTC Disclaimer:  I did receive a free pair of Skullcandy Headphones  back before you started targeting bloggers.  I once had someone pay my fare to get on the L Train – not sure if it was a MTA employee, but I’m just trying to cover my tracks.  I live in New York and pay city taxes, so I guess I have a financial relationship with the city although I’m pretty sure that it’s the city that should post a disclosure since I am pretty awesome and make the city better by living here.  Craigslist lets me post missed connections for free.  It’s a nice perk but I’m starting to think that Craig gets around because everyone else seems to be able to do it.  I generally like Blondes over Brunettes, but recently a Brunette bought me dinner so I’m going to say that may influence my recent crush on this brunette neighbor that may or may not have been my real neighbor.  Also not sure if the brunette that bought me dinner is part of the brunette’s union or if such a thing really exists.  I’m pretty sure that discloses everything, but if I missed anything – just let me know.  Kthnxbai**

George G Smith Jr’s Future is…

The movie Amelie is one of my favorite movies.  In the beginning of the movie, the narrator goes on to explain the characters with a series of quirks – the little things that make each character different.  Here’s a clip:

One of my many quirks is the fact that I google the ending to everything – movies, books, television shows – I can not stand to wait to figure out what will happen next.  That, along with my favorite french saying “Je sais l’avenir par coeur” (via Paul Valery) illustrates what I want out of life: I want to know how it ends in intimate detail.  I want to know the future by heart.

Since you can not “know” the future, I tried to impose my Will on it.  I have a very strong Will.  I feel that I can accomplish anything and, ultimately, when I set my mind to things – they happen.  With that Will, I tried to create a scenario where I knew the future – in particular my love life.  The Will is strong and I almost made it happen.  When it didn’t, I found myself befuddled.  How could I not get what I wanted?  How could I not make something I felt such powerful passion for reality?

I was talking to Sarah today and, as per usual, her somewhat detached observational nature made me start to put into words the things that I have been feeling.  I have been reveling in the uncomfortable nature of not “knowing” the future.

That uncomfortableness made me realize a lot of things about how sometimes you can’t just get things because you want them – especially when love is involved.  For an average looking guy, I have not faced rejection that often.  I have successfully pursued many girls that were far out of my league.  And I did this with the confidence that, if I tried hard enough, nothing could stop me.   My mindset always was, as I’ve written before: I do know the future by heart, because the future resides within me.  My Will creates the future as I want it….

With love, however – it’s different.  Love shouldn’t be the powerful Will of another causing submission.  It should be the interwoven passion of two people.  Back when Sarah and I dated, she did one of the most romantic things that a woman has ever done for me.  I arrived at her house after work to a note that said, “Go to the place where we had our first date….”  I went, where I was greeted by more clues that lead me on a scavenger hunt throughout the months of our relationship.  When I finally gathered all the clues, I was directed to her place where she was there – cooking for me.  We had a nice dinner and I have never felt more loved in my life.  She illustrated her passion in me by going above and beyond.  Our passions were aligned and that lead to our relatively successful relationship.

Looking back over things, I realize that if you spend too much time trying to create the future – you never will receive the affection in return.   Over the course of years, I never did get anything in return.  There were gifts of all sizes sent to whatever location she was in – even ones that never arrive because of Italian customs.  There were password protected Posterous accounts that had pictures of every time I thought of her – a site with over 300 posts in 4 months that she never even bothered to check once.  There was so much passion and Will to make something happen that, l forgot to even see if there was passion being returned.  There wasn’t and there is really no one to blame other than myself.

So, with this introspection, I realize that I can no longer google my future to determine what will happen.  There’s no “George G Smith Jr’s future is….” blog post out there that will determine it.  No image search that will identify future lovers.  Ultimately, it’s each and every moment – filled with the horrifically beautiful “unknown.”   I think I’m finally ready to let go of the need to “know” the future and just sit back and enjoy the present…

“You say my kisses are not like his, but this time I’m not gonna tell you why that is…”

The thing that I love about music the most is the fact that almost every person takes a personal stake into the artistic creation of someone else.  The song, “Come Pick Me Up” by Ryan Adams is a song that I feel like I wrote.  The emotions, my interpretations of some of the lines, the sweet melancholy – it just comes together and represents a specific part of my life – one that I’ve documented off and on via blogs like this, but I’ll refrain from sullying this blog with those details.

I couldn’t help but suddenly feel the intense desire to search the song that is describing my current feelings.  There have been a lot of songs that I have been listening to lately that are close.  For example, the line,  “If I could do just one near perfect thing I’d be happy /They’d write it on my grave, or when they scattered my ashes / On second thoughts I’d rather hang about and be there with my best friend / If she wants me” hit close to home, but the song overall doesn’t capture things completely.

When Bob Dylan was writing Blonde on Blonde in the Chelsea Hotel, I wonder if it was raining out.  The cliche cinematic version in my head has him at his typewriter, smoking cigarettes and pushing them into an all too full ashtray.  He is maniacal at the keyboard, the pounding keystrokes balancing the lightning speed of thought and the machines physical constrictions. This is the scene I have in my head when I imagine Dylan sitting there writing these songs from my favorite album.  This is the album I listen to when I’m feeling blue.  So why is it shocking that it’s two Dylan songs that capture what I am feeling:

Sitting in my apartment, looking down on Loisaida Avenue, the window slightly ajar, and the cool air filling my all-too warm room, the only light in the room is this monitor and the flicker of a candle that I lit a few hours ago – and that will go out by the time I finish writing this post.  In a bit of reverse engineering, I’m trying to capture the muse using the setting Dylan had while listening to the finished product.  I’m trying to echo that moment from almost a half century ago so that I, too, can create something from feeling the way that I feel he felt.

It’s not working, but at the very least – I have the music.

Positively 47th Street: Brian Simpson and The Roger Smith Hotel

New York has always been a hub for people to gather and collect.  Neighborhoods formed based on ethnic and social realities.  Places are dubbed hot and cool often based on their cross streets.  So much of New York is about how and why people get together.  In the 1960′s, Greenwich Village erupted with the Folk Movement.  While Bob Dylan and a handful of others may be the names that people remember, it in fact drew from a cast of thousands – all coming together for reasons that centered around one idea:  folk music.  It’s a simple concept – give people a place to enjoy their passions, and they will congregate.  Yet, this simple concept is extremely hard to pull off.

The Roger Smith Hotel is pulling it off.  On Twitter the other day, I called Brian Simpson of the Roger Smith the David Van Ronk of the New York Social Media scene.  Van Ronk was dubbed the “Mayor of MacDougal street” and while “mayor” might have a different connotation in the social media world thanks to Foursquare, Brian has served many as a conventional one might.  Brian has helped cultivate the Roger Smith to be the Social Media haven.  The other night it culminated in having over 50+ people at the Roger Smith checking in on Foursquare.  Brian was there, somewhat in the shadows, watching as multiple events that centered around Social Media took place.  DigitalSomethings was upstairs.  A Tweetup downstairs.  Watching them mix and marry into an amorphous cloud of people, you can’t help but feel like something special is in the works.

Now, I’m new to town.  I haven’t known the regulars in the Social Media scene here for that much time.  I just know that the Roger Smith has a reputation from those in town, and a mythos to those out of town.  It probably feels like what places like the Gaslight, Gerde’s, Cafe Wha? and the Folklore Center must have felt like to the folk crowd.  As social media, mobile, and location based technology becomes motivation for offline events, what other venues and hubs will develop?  The Roger Smith is one of the first ones that I discovered.  I don’t need to keep track of check ins to see who is the “Mayor” of that place – and maybe even of this New York scene in general….

Delurker Day

Today is Delurker Day – which means that if you are reading this, you need to leave a comment below.  Judging by my Google Analytics – there are a bunch of you out there.  From random places around the country and some foreign ones.  It’s fun to see where everyone who is reading my blog comes from – so when you leave a comment, just say where you’re reading from.  I’m a firm believer that blogs are supposed to be communities – communities of friends, family, people with similar interests and passions – whatever it is, the most important thing is community.

So here we are – please leave a comment and let me know where you are.  I’ve been doing it on some of my favorite blogs that I lurk on….

Keeping Warm on a chilly Sunday

Pictured: In sub-zero temperatures Japanese Macaque monkeys soak in the warmth of a mountain hotsprings at Jigokudani (Hell’s Valley) in Nagano Province of central Japan

I seriously hate the cold.  There’s something about being cold that puts me into hibernation.  With the first Winter chill taking over the northeast, I’m finally coming to terms that I’m moving to a place in the country that isn’t exactly known for it’s weather.  Boulder – even though it’s currently in a deep freeze of its own – is definitely an upgrade in the warmth department.

My top ten things to do in the Winter when I’m freezing, in no particular order:

• Lay under multiple comforters watching movies
• listening to music
• reading a book
• drinking hot cocoa
• drinking scotch/whiskey or other hard liquor
• writing
• napping with someone
• turning the heat really high and opening a window
• hot showers
• running

Today, I pretty much did all these activities except for running.  So, it was a good day.  I might not be as relaxed as the monkeys above, but I also can’t complain.

Thinking About What Sarah Said

I was sitting with Sarah at a nice wine bar called 10 Degrees on St. Mark’s between Ave A and 1st, when she shared the story of Spanish Conquistador Hernando Cortez.   The story, in its basic form, goes like this:  When Spanish Conquistador Hernando Cortez landed in Mexico, one of his first orders to his men was to burn the ships. Cortez was committed to his mission and did not want to allow himself or his men the option of going back to Spain. By removing this option, Cortez and his men were forced to focus on how they could make the mission successful.

After sharing the story, Sarah looked at me and asked, “What would you burn the ships for?”   I paused.  It’s a very profound question.  I think there’s a definite part of me that would “burn the ships” for love.  In my younger days, I was probably more of a serial arsonist when it came to that subject.  As I’ve grown older and become more enamored with the world in general rather than people in specific, the things I would “burn the ships for” have become more and more rare.

We discussed the topic more and more in depth.  It was a great conversation – complete with some good Sangria, the right soundtrack in the background, and enough smiles and laughter that made the depth of conversation still feel light and airy.  We came to one conclusion:  You can only “Burn the Ships” about one thing.  That seems relatively obvious but it’s also somewhat a scary concept.  After all, if you are willing to “burn the ships” for a passion – like your career, a charity (like the charity Sarah works for: Starting Bloc), then are you giving up on love?

I told her the story of people like Sloan and Amy from ReasontoWander.com.  They “burned the ships” and went around the world together – succumbing to their wanderlust together.  Isn’t that proof that you can do it?  Ultimately, there’s passion and there’s ship burning.  You can be passionate about many things – I am passionate about writing, building community, marketing, the internet – but none of those things necessarily have me carrying a container of kerosene and matches.  So can you burn the ships for one thing but still have a passion for another?  I’m not sure – I have never burned the ships for anything….

* * * * * * *

Earlier in the evening, Sarah shared a story about how her friends Jeff and Russ started to have an argument about what happiness is.  She then stopped and asked me what I thought it was.  I paused, contemplating how to answer it.  The only thing that popped into my head was one word:  “fleeting.”  This isn’t some pejorative because I’m melancholy due to my lack of luck with les amours.  Instead, it’s a realistic view on life that conjures up the promise of a life worth living.  You see, I think humans are naturally drawn to a stagnant form of contentment – the kind of life where you go through activities because you have to, not because you want to.  Routines, structure – all those things that are integral to survival, yet aren’t anything to get “excited” for.  If you think about it, the people that you think are the happiest in your life are generally people who still get excited for the things that are normally in their routine.

So, as we get older and newer experiences become fewer and far between, finding excitement in the everyday becomes harder.  It also becomes harder to get out of that mindset – harder to give up the comforts of this contentment.  Ultimately, there needs to be some sort of inertia to get people back to seeking that excitement.   It can come in many forms – some healthy, some not so much – but learning to create your own inertia is something that I think is important.  So, when I say that happiness is “fleeting,” it’s not to say that you can’t have it but that you have to continue to chase it.  You can never stop and become stagnant.  I know this view won’t be popular with everyone.  I know many people will disagree.  But, since I adopted this philosophy a few years ago, I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been.

So – I’ve spent time thinking about what Sarah said.  I’d love to know what your thoughts are on these subjects.  Comment below, write your own blog post, or whatever it is that makes you happy….

Just Popping In

Tonight, I appeared on my friend Danielle’s MomTV show.  It was fun to just pop in and say to my blogging friends.

The Three Noble and Invincible Arts

In Herman Hesse’s Siddartha, you are taught that the only thing the enlightened one needed to know was how to think, how to wait, and how to fast.  He called these the three noble and invincible arts.  It’s somewhat telling when you look at the world around you how very little you see of those three things.

{Siddartha Speaking} “Listen my friend!  I am a sinner and you are a sinner, but someday the sinner will be Brahma again, will someday attain Nirvana, will someday become a Buddha.  Now this ‘someday’ is illusion; it is only a comparison.  The sinner is not on the way to a Buddha-like state; he is not evolving, although our thinking cannot conceive things otherwise.  No, the potential Buddha already exists in the sinner; his future is already there.  The potential hidden Buddha must be recognized in him, in you, in everybody.”

I quote Siddartha not because I am keen on Buddhism.  I quote Hesse because the thought that our futures, our potentials, our paths are already within us is something I am starting to really believe.  Even in hard times, I have slowly come to realize how much thought and personal perspective really propel one forward – for better or for worse.  One of my favorite things to say is “Je sais L’avenir par coeur.”   I know the future by heart.  That’s because the future resides within me.  It resides in all of us.  Our future is the Nirvana that we all seek.

Like I wrote in my previous post, 2010 is going to do things to this blog.  I’m going to take a step back from my life as often as I can to think, to wait, and to fast.  I think these skills will bring new perspective to my life, will help me change the timbre of my soul, and elevate me to where I need to be.  With that, I will also be able to help those around me – playing whatever role that I am meant to play.

Fairly a Fairy Tale

For the last few years, my best friend has been a girl.  Not just a girl, a specific girl with whom I have been madly in love with.  I even have gone as far as professing her to be my future wife.  Over those years, we’ve talked on the phone, over the internet, and occasionally seen each other in person.  It wasn’t ideal but when is ideal part of the equation when you’re falling in love…

For the past sixth months, I rarely went more than a few hours without talking to her.  Via text, twitter, and IM – we would keep each other up to date on the very minutia of each passing moment of time.  When night time came, we would have skype dates where we would talk about our days, share our successes, and learn from our failures.  She was absolutely perfect. She was my best friend. I knew, without a doubt in my heart, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.

Of course, life wasn’t without its share of pratfalls and distance was not kind to us.  First it was Albany, NY and Boulder, CO.  Then Houston, Tx and Boulder.  Then New York City and Houston.  No matter what happened, we just seemed to not be able to get our cards in line.  So we dated other people.  We still talked as much as before – if not increasing the frequency as our conversations became integral to our daily lives.  I would tell her that it’s all part of the plan.  I would tell her that we belonged together.  She started to agree.  She started to believe.

She visited me a few weeks ago.  We spent the weekend together and, ultimately, achieved a level of intimacy that we never shared before.  I told her “I love you.”  She said those same words back to me.  We frolicked in the blissful hues of young love.  We talked of future plans – her work was bringing her to Albany again.  We would be closer than ever before.  We would be able to give this a shot when she moved here.  We talked of planning – weekend visits, summer in the city; intoxicating each other in all things beautiful about love and sex and everything in between.

Sometime between our last phone call and the break up call, things changed.  She told me she was no longer planning on moving to Albany.  She told me she no longer shared the same vision.  She told me she met someone else.

Now, I don’t want to wax poetic about someone so fickle that they can tell someone that they love them and a few weeks later change their entire plans around just like that.  It’s not worth it and, ultimately, neither is she.  Still, there’s something very beautiful about settling into the soft soliloquies of sadness.  The focus not being the girl, or fairy tale plans aborted, but the emotional power that ultimately fuels us all.

I told only a handful of girls that I loved them during the past decade.  The only relationship of those that didn’t end in disaster is the one whose shirt pattern adorns the background of this blog’s header.  Sarah’s the only one whose breakup wasn’t because of lack of trust, other people, or the thousands of other things that leave people crippled and broken hearted.  Ours was simply circumstance – as she moved to Washington D.C. and out of my life.  Ironically, she lives 5 blocks south of me now.  What I learned from our recent retrospective talks is that relationships run their course.  It’s what you take away from them that matter.   Right now, I wonder what I’ll be taking away from this one…

So, single life in NYC will be interesting.  I mean – technically I was “single” which is the same designation that I have had for years.  Yet, this girl was ever-present.  My growing love for her was constant and, ultimately, got in the way of other relationship possibilities along the way.  So, now unencumbered except for a slightly sullen heart, I wonder what the world beyond has in store.  I’m a hopeless romantic with a hardened cynical streak.  I wonder which part will get reinforced during the next few months. Will I be bitter and not believe in true love anymore or will I be able to be Paul Varjack looking for his Holly Golightly?  And what if I can’t find Cat?  It’s raining…  These are the things that I am thinking about now.

Obviously – I’m close to the rambling stage now.  I’ve been up all night and I really don’t see much chance for sleep tonight.  Which is fine – I usually can run off endorphins for a day or two.  Tuesday or Wednesday might be tough.  I’m sure I’ll put together some more random musings over the next few day.  I find it apropos that the minute I decide I am going to be more authentic and real on this blog is the minute I have an emotional event in my life kick the writer in me into “confessional mode.”  I guess, ultimately, I took the expressway back to being a blogger.  A real one.  One of my favorite tweets ever was from my friend Erin.  She wrote, “I’m not a wuss.  I’m just sensitive.  I will kick your ass.  I will just cry doing it.”  I’m at the point where I don’t care if my emotional thoughts get published to the masses.  I am who I am and I’m comfortable with it.  These are just my thoughts.  Let me know your thoughts in the comments below…