Tag friends

My TV Friends

Guilty. Being alone in the mountains I’ve been watching more TV than I hoped. Now, I’m not channel surfing mindless advertising-punctuated soaps. I’m watching what some would agree is quality TV; The Wire and It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. A comedy and  a drama, both pretty damned fantastic if you ask me. The same thing happens to me almost every time an episode ends, though. I suddenly realize the silence in the room and it’s terribly unsettling. I just want to spend a little more time with these people, these pseudo-television friends. I like hearing their voices, getting all into their drama and laughing at their jokes. It’s like I’m at Paddy’s pub, with the gang, scheming our next adventure and reveling in the last.

"It's like my family is all around me."

Good dramatic television and film is marked by complex, well-developed characters and compelling story lines. Series, in particular, offer a recurring dose of a community we want to get in on. What’s interesting is that we seem to be excited to join almost any community at all, from gangsters to funeral homes, drug dealers to cast aways. Perhaps our craving for socializing override our personal interests and allow us to adapt to almost any culture to fit our need to be a part of something. Or maybe we’re just curious what life is like for all these different people, as though TV tells us the truth about them. Maybe if we had a tighter community in our cities and towns we’d have less interest in TV, engaging our personal community rather than the virtual. There’s probably a lot more drama and humor to be a part of in your building or on your block than in the boob tube.

Here’s an experiment to try: When I started high school in a new city as a sophomore I used to count how many people I saw in halls whose names I knew. It was depressing to only know 5 after the first week, but then every one after that made a big difference. Eventually I stopped counting because I lost track. When you next walk out of your house or apartment, count how many people you know by name. If you lose track, community win.

I owe you, Mr. Sungarian

If there’s one person I owe my movement to the west more than anyone else, it’s probably my buddy Dave. Dave moved to SF about 6 months before me and helped me get my job and let me crash on his couch for the first couple weeks. Almost everyone in SF has someone who helped them make the transition. I know my couches were frequent spare beds and I hope the tradition continues with all the people who took advantage of someone’s couch in the past. Here’s to you, Dave.

Almost East coast pizza

Almost East coast pizza

Goodbye SF.

Sunday marked our last full day in the bay area. I have had many homes in my life, but none are on the same level with SF. To send us off we invited a bunch of friends to Dolores park for a picnic.

We have friends!

We have friends!

Turns out we have some awesome friends and my heart aches leaving them behind. More than the restaurants, neighborhoods and shops, the community I’ve been connected to is the hardest thing to leave behind. Luckily I got the chance to spend some quality time with a handful of folks like my buddy Harold before I shoved off. This is a little poetic and cheesy but I’m not sad for the ways are going to be, I’m sad to leave the way things were.

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