I’m contemplating a road trip. I’m contemplating a lot of things, but in the absence of financial capital or a job or place to settle down or a person to settle down with, a road trip feels about right. I’m thinking the end destination would be San Diego. I have some ghosts I think I need to bury out there, some rocks that need to be returned to the sea and a small mountain top to visit. I’ve been looking for jobs out there (and just about anywhere). I once had a dating app location set to there – I had a few women say they’d like to meet if I’m ever in town. Maybe I should take them up on it. I’m thinking of hitting up Utah for some hiking. Maybe a day or two in Vegas. I haven’t given it full consideration, but I feel like I’m just wasting my time here waiting for something to come my way. I’ve been unemployed for almost five months. It takes six months to hike the Appalachian Trail. I could have almost hiked the AT in this time. I love my sunsets over the Mississippi, but there’s a world to see.
I haven’t been very diligent with my writing these past few days. I used to say that pretty often until I built up a decent habit. Now I’m getting out of the habit. I don’t know what, if anything, has changed – aside from putting a lot more thought and energy and I suppose concern in to trying to answer the “what am I going to do” question. I have a lot of days where all I want is something simple – maybe to go back to a simpler time; maybe to go back to when I knew in August I’d spend a week at the shore, and then a few weekends at Penn State – when life was more predictable. At least two or three times a day I switch between buying the cheapest house I can (wherever it may be) and figuring out how to cobble together a living that gives me the time and resources to travel and do other things (on the cheap); moving to State College and just biding my time; moving somewhere that I’d like to live and hoping for the best; and starting one of the half-dozen business ideas that I have (all of them some sort of social good enterprise). I come up with catchy names for social good programs – Brew Good, Do Good Collective: Craft Breweries Building Communities – a group of local and regional breweries committed to giving back (either through a portion of proceeds, or special beers, or special events)…. it could even have a series of beer festival fundraisers… This is how I spend my time. These are the things I think about on long walks.
I like the idea of starting something or owning something or building something. I walk around town and see vacant spaces and think of what could be done with them. Downtown Memphis (north Main St.) could really use a specialty market, the kind with a few different vendors (a baker, a cheese shop – maybe even one that has the extra p and e shoppe). I’ve always wanted to own a bar. Maybe a cat cafe? Then I remember that I don’t have any money – so whatever gets done with these spaces won’t involve me. Being excluded from the economy like that kinda sucks. And this isn’t just me, it’s most everybody that’s excluded. It doesn’t seem fair. The people who will shape our cities and our futures, the ones who will decide where we work and what type of work we’ll do are the ones who can afford to buy up buildings. I was thinking about this a lot the last few days. How wealth creates all types of opportunities but also allows the wealthy to set the agenda. We can all appreciate that Bill Gates gives away a lot of money, but because of who he is and how much he brings to the table, he also determines what problems get addressed – he sets the agenda. I saw that LeBron James got over $100 million in venture funding to start an entertainment empire. He may be a great basketball player, but is he more skilled in business or more qualified to manage an entertainment empire than others? Imagine what 100 different people – each given $1 million in seed funding might do with that money. We continue to heap wealth on the wealthy as though they are the only ones capable of creating.
I’m about to go out on a group hike… A mountain called Pinnacle, just outside of Little Rock. I wanted to get something written and posted, even if it’s just sour grapes. I can always delete, hide, revise. I’ll try to get back to it later tonight, but I know how that goes.