Nothing But Dandruff

There is nothing worse than “flakey” people. Okay, maybe White Supremacists, Joseph McCarthy, and the sound of Styrofoam squeaking, but other than that, nothing is worse. I don’t know what cultural morays have programmed our generation to vomit empty phrases like, “We should hang out sometime!” Or “I should be able to make it.” But it needs to stop, immediately. I myself am guilty of saying these things from time to time. There are many people that view a flakey attitude as a courtesy to those around them. As if by not rejecting offers outright, they are somehow being kind. Say yes to everything, and disappoint no one!

Now don’t get me wrong, not everyone is a flake, in fact it seems to be a widely cultural creation. For instance, I live in Southern California, the Mecca of Flakey people. Whether through the ridiculous mouths of suburban soccer moms, whose monolithic SUVs and stiff corpse-like faces litter the streets, or the pretentious douche bags yuppies who make a living riding the backs of others, the epidemic is widespread and destructive. Keep in mind, that I am not a self-hating Californian. As a transplant from the Pacific Northwest, I chose to live her. I love the urban sprawl of The City of Angeles and the vibrant beaches of Newport, Huntington, and Laguna. Not everyone is SoCal is a flake and there are many genuine, honest, and hard working people. In fact, I can’t stand people who badmouth California. Yet “flakey” is how most of the world views us.

However, being an outsider has allowed me to view this crisis from a different perspective. I grew up in a fairly rural area where men still hang Confederate Flags and the names of Jesus, John Wayne, and Ronald Regan go hand in hand (Think less Seattle, more Idaho). Many come from farming communities and still hold on to much of what their forefathers believed (I’m still waiting for English militiamen to take over my house). There is a certain pride that these people take in sticking to their commitments. The “word is my bond” philosophy is still held in high regard and anyone who feels otherwise is viewed with suspicion and contempt. That’s why most of the politicians have more experience owning saloons than they do with politics. In essence, it’s very different. Not necessarily better, just different. There are many flakey people there too. I think this comparison offers a good example of what I mean by, cultural creation. There are some areas of the country, some areas of your own backyard where flakey is more acceptable than others.

Yet, whether through cultural evolution or just random chance, the acceptance of flakey people has steadily been growing. I suspect that much of this attitude stems from our own childish insecurities. As if having nothing to do on a Friday night would shame you in the eyes of your compatriots. Better to act as if you have a million things to do, then say no to all of them and stay home watching The Notebook and eating Ben and Jerry’s®.

I am quite tired of people I know committing to things and then at the last minute ducking out. There’s never a courtesy phone call or adequate warning. Most of us know when we are being blown off, even if we don’t admit it. If there is any discussion about the incident, it is choked with empty platitudes designed to make the spurned party member feel less like you can’t stand them.

The saddest part of this whole thing is that by being a flake, you fail to establish any real connections. Your life is filled with “friends”, none of which you can count on. You are left alone with your empty platitudes and melted Cherry Garcia®. My challenge to you, to us, is to cast off the shackles of insecurity and take a lesson from the great American philosopher RZA, “Word is bond mother&#@$!*” As you venture out into the world, be honest and fourth coming. Choose diplomacy over flakeyness. If you have to say no, choose your words carefully, and whenever possible be honest. Subterfuge may serve you in certain circles, *cough *cough HOLLYWOOD ehem… but I find that with the right wording subterfuge is not usually necessary and can do you more harm than good.

P.S. Show up on time to things! I’m talking to you “fashionably late” people!

Why I Hate Eating At Denny's

The question of breakfast vs. dinner is one that has plagued mankind for centuries. The idea that a restaurant could offer so many choices 24 hours a day seemed, at first, to be a gift from the gods. However, man quickly learned the harsh realities of such variety. In 423 B.C. Plato completed a lengthy dialogue in which he contemplated what he dubbed, “Dilemma Denniatos.” Directly translated this phrase can be roughly stated as, “Fighting Godstuff.” More accurately, English scholars have come to refer to this theory as, “The Denny’s Dilemma.” This theory states that when man is confronted with unlimited choices, he will not easily know which one to choose. Thus, the choice between Moons over My Hammy and The Denny’s Slamburger

(One of the lesser known trials of Heracles)

transforms itself from something that should be beautiful, into a test of personal strength and willpower. All joking aside, the post-graduation world is full of choices. Just like The Denny’s Menu, there are often times too many choices. I sometimes find myself unsure of what to do next, because there is no set path. Do I choose the safe one? Or the one less traveled? Do I apply for jobs in my field immediately, or do I travel the world? The important thing to remember is that no matter what you choose to do, you are not trapped. I can’t tell you how many times I hear people telling me they, “have to” do something. You don’t have to do anything! So you graduated, you got your degree in Advanced Russian Dungeons & Dragons™. That’s great! But it doesn’t mean you have to start looking for a job as a Dungeon Master. Me, I signed up for SCUBA lessons this week. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time and it’s also something that I’m pretty terrified of. I think that’s why I’m doing it. It’s my attempt at a carpe diem attitude. Just remember to keep an open mind and say yes to all the wonderful possibilities you have before you. Just because you choose one path, doesn’t mean you can’t change your mind. So many people end up living miserably because they think they “have to” do something. It is your life, be a driver not a passenger, be a steamboat not a sailboat, shoot for the moon and other clichés. Say yes to the Lumberjack Slam today, because tomorrow is a new day and that means another chance to try The Maple Bacon Sundae.

Be The Morgan Freeman

 If you want to understand what it’s like to Graduate College, you need to watch The Shawshank Redemption. From this point on, I’m going to assume that you are at least familiar with the movie. If you are not, I encourage you to find someone with a TV and flip through the channels until you find it. It should only take about twenty minutes. Like reruns of M*A*S*H, Shake Weight commercials, and C-SPAN, it’s on all the time. Once you are up to speed, come back to this.

Found it? Good. 

Now, remember the part in the movie where Brooks, the old guy with the bird, puts the shiv to the blonde guy’s throat because they are kicking him out of prison? I kind of get that. I’ve never been to prison but I think I understand what he was going through.

You see, being in college is a lot like being in prison minus the shitty living conditions, substandard food, and gang rape. Wait, no, it’s just like prison. You are stuck with the same assholes for years. Like that guy who still yells “Play Freebird!” at every public gathering, and then acts as if no one understands his comedic genius. Or those sorority girls who describe everything as “chill” and always seem to have someone to text. (I have a lot of friends ladies, no one is that popular.) Not to mention that you are stuck listening to the same mustachioed authority figures for four years.  

More than this though, college is a place you spend years in and never imagine you’ll actually leave. It’s the last bastion of childhood, the only legitimate excuse for twenty somethings to act like complete morons and get away with it. “What? The kid with the word BALLS written on his forehead? He’s the valedictorian.” 

It’s a safe place, where you have a role and purpose. You hear people talk about “leaving” and “graduating”, you’ve even seen people do it, but never in your wildest dreams did you think it could happen to you. I mean, four years is along time right?

So, just like the old guy from Shawshank, you become “institutionalized” you get used to the routine and get comfortable with it. Then, when it comes time for them to kick your ass out, you do what I did…FLIP OUT! There’s no easy transition where they hold your hand and teach you how to be an income earning adult, oh no, they shove you out the gates with nothing but the clothes on your back and a degree that cost more money than you’ll make in the next fifty years. You think to yourself, maybe failing a class isn’t such a bad idea, cause then I’d have another semester. Should I put a shiv to someone’s throat? Of course, if you keep watching the movie, you learn that things don’t turn out that well for Brooks.

Whatever you do, DON’T STOP WATCHING THE MOVIE THERE! Keep watching until the end and see what happens to Morgan Freeman. He makes it out, he takes control of his life, and realizes his dream. Now that you’re graduating, you have two choices; Will you be Brooks or Morgan Freeman? I choose Morgan Freeman.

            I’ve been in school for almost 16 years. I like school, I’ve always been that way and I’ve never liked the idea of growing up. Now that I am graduating, I’m terrified that I’m not going to make it, that I’m going to come crashing down in a fiery shit ball of failure and debt. I don’t want to end up like Brooks. I want to be Morgan Freeman. The guy who makes it out and, not only survives, but flourishes. I want to live my dream and grab the world by the love handles and say, “Hey world! I’m Morgan Freeman!”

            So this is what I have to offer you (I’m doing this for myself more than anything, but I figure if it might help somebody, it’s worth it.) This is what I like to call  “The Mongrel’s March: A Post-College Survival Guide” Here I will chronicle my adventures as a bachelor’s degree recipient and my struggle to find my place in the “real world.” It’s not going to be easy, it’s going to require copious amounts of Jalapeño chips, Fellini movies, and freaky dance parties. I can’t promise you any answers, but, at the very least, this will give me and you something to do while I we are filing for unemployment. Wish me luck!