Fuses got some matches put to them in the last couple of days. It's officially on, but it's a limp start, not like the well campaigned Exodus of the last fiscal year. This time around, the preface is the Hincapie Gran Fondo down in South Carolina followed by four days at a little cottage in Athens, GA. Past that, we'll see what stumbles into us.
It's a start and momentum, for me, gains speed quickly once its given a green light. I've been reticent this time around to get any cogs rotating because of work. I still have a business and people who depend on me to make sure they have a place to go in the morning and a paycheck on Friday.
I hate it. I really do. I want to be rid of it and just be on recess everyday. But the digger is the financial part. In order to recess I know I need to also learn my alphabet and fix the General Journal and pay my taxes. I want to say "fuck it" but I don't want an audit either.
It's not different for anyone else, I guess. Except maybe it might be different for those of us in big, strong, free countries where the message is to crush your competition and make huge salaries and spend lavishly on things you don't need. When I get in that mindset, all I need to do is read a few pages of "Walden" and I'm suddenly spring-cleaning.
The pressure to push ourselves for more money; I don't feel that pressure, because I know it is a killer of man. It is a far bigger killer than chain-smoking and playing in traffic, combined. You don't believe me because it's not documented, but I can tell you with zero doubt: working just for money kills people.
September is a rough month. Always has been for me as it always means the onset of a mild depressive state and almost total disenfranchisement. I can't help but think that this has something to do with the 17 years or so of going-back-to-school that I had to endure.
I notice it on my bike rides: people are harried, there is a visible increase in road-kill as well as a spike in the exchange of opinion with guys in red pick-ups and/or white Miata's.
I notice it off my bike rides: heads becomes heavier, people stare at the ground when they walk, smiles and hello's are harder to come by, and everyone is just massively pissing everyone else off.
It's back-to-school and it's back-to-work, I'm telling you. The message is that the fun is over. No more beaches or lakes or ice-creams or lazy days or BBQ's or fucking around. The snow, rain, wind, and short days are coming. So everyone just simmer down, get in your jammies and suck(sit) it up(out.)
Hence, the Exodus was born.
Hopefully the shock has worn off by October. Halloween is coming, and you can wear sweaters and jackets and scarves again. There is something to be said for fall fashion, apple pie baking and the crispness to the air. That picks everyone up a bit.
And I came back around as well. I have been packing, just setting things aside I know I will need, and I have the first week well-placed and booked. So I can say it's on.
What did I do all summer? Oh, I obsessed so much knowing I would have to answer that, that I barely enjoyed myself, you evil whore.
P.S. I love teachers. I think you do a wonderful thing.
This video, in retrospect, fucking sucks. But the idea of a teacher, a hot teacher, stripping down to a bikini and dancing on the desks endures.
