Immersed in Suburbia (Birthday Drive By Edition)

It still surprises me how quickly behavior catches on. Birthday parties come to a halt because of Coronavirus, but birthday celebrations get reinvented. I'm seeing a lot of caravans through neighborhoods with honking, signs, balloons, and hollering. It's a creative way to say Happy Birthday. I've participated in two of these so far. It's both nice and sad to me. Nice because you want a kid to have some feeling of a happy birthday, and sad because you know the kid would rather have a party and that a regular party with friends and family would be a thousand times more fun. But at least the kid gets to see friends and loved ones drive past their house with a show of love and support.

This birthday drive through phenomenon strikes me as hard to accomplish in a city. It's been years since I've lived in a city, but I imagine it's hard to pull off in a place with a lot of traffic, and without subdivisions. Here in suburbia it's easy to execute where car culture is king and big parking lots rule. You all gather in a parking lot until someone leads the way past the person's house to beep and yell out the window. It's been interesting to observe social interaction during the time that cars gather and wait for the procession to begin. A lot of people stay in their cars, windows up. Others are out in front of their cars chatting with other people. Sometimes it's with 6 feet distance, other times it appears to be fake social distancing where people aren't super close to each other but are clearly less than 6 feet apart. It sort of acknowledges the new norm of social distancing, yet skirts around the edges of it. It's a workaround.

Understandably, people are impatient and aren't enthusiastic about hunkering down. People want to talk and schmooze and laugh and be together. And if you've got a kid with a birthday you might like to get rowdy with your people for 30 minutes. When I'm driving around running errands, it's common now to see these caravans in progress. It's pretty easy to tell who the hosts are and you can see them wearing masks, being somewhat careful. On the other hand you can see people in close proximity to each other. In a way, it reminds me of a cheat day for someone who's dieting. "I've been watching what I eat most of the time, but on Sunday I'm going to have a sundae. That's my cheat day!" But there's a major difference. What you choose to eat can be a private issue, but when you take a day off from social distancing it becomes a public health matter.

People are craving social interaction. It's why a lot of people are practicing selective social distancing. It's hard to be away from each other, and I'm afraid it's not going to get easier. 

Success is a Social Construction

This tweet caught a virus and generated fun responses.

The most successful people I've met:

1. Read constantly
2. Workout daily
3. Are innately curious
4. Have laser focus
5. Believe in themselves
6. Build incredible teams
7. Admit they know very little
8. Constantly work to improve
9. Demand excellence in everything they do

— Pomp 🌪 (@APompliano) June 10, 2018

One of my favorite responses centered on a good drinking song from the 1990s, the most glorious of decades.

The most successful people I've met:
1. Drinks a whiskey drink
2. Drinks a Vodka drink
3. Drinks a Lager drink
4. Drinks a Cider drink
5. Sings the songs that remind him of the good times
6. Sings the songs that remind him of the best timeshttps://t.co/8u5zppPMn4

— Nick Hannula (@NickHannula) June 14, 2018

I was just sitting on a chair in front of my house listening to a good song on my phone ("Gold Rush" by Death Cab for Cutie) and my neighbor drove by, flashed me the peace sign and yelled "Happy Father's Day homie". I responded in kind and started thinking about social constructions such as "living the dream" and how people define success and happiness. Anyhow, I'm glad to have a good neighbor and I'm going to go back to listening to Death Cab for Cutie.

 

Notes from the Weekend

Yesterday, Saturday morning, 8:30. An early soccer practice for our 10-year-old. I didn't mind taking him to practice. It was a beautiful morning, 70 degrees. I had a chair in my trunk and brought a book in case I might do some reading. I also had in mind that my favorite donut place was about 100 steps away. Coffee in a Styrofoam cup kind of place. 

I was the second parent to arrive. The first parent was helping to warm up his son, and then my son. I chatted with him from a short distance while setting up shop at a picnic table. The rest of the team all showed up suddenly, most parents dropping off their kids, taking the opportunity to do errands or whatever for an hour plus. One parent stuck around, and she walked over to the picnic table, and we started chatting. Then one more parent showed up and stayed around, and he joined us, and eventually we were all seated on one side of the table. There are times I like socializing with people and there are times I prefer to shy away and do anything other than talk to humans. I was glad I was feeling social. There was something about this conversation on a peaceful Saturday morning that hit the spot. It was all pleasant, all positive, just a good chit-chat with parents mostly about parent stuff. I've been a baseball and soccer parent for a bunch of years now, and it might have been the most enjoyable small talk I've ever had with my youth sport parent peers. If not the most enjoyable then surely in the top 5. 

Today, Sunday morning, I was at the grocery story in the 7:00 hour, and on the way home my window was down and I turned up the volume very high when the Alvvays song "In Undertow" came on the radio. Sitting at a red light I recalled being 21 and dancing at my favorite college bar to Lenny Kravitz's "Are You Gonna Go My Way". More than 20 years later letting loose is having the window down enjoying indie rock while driving through town. 

One hour ago I took my 7-year-old for ice cream. I wanted him to have something fun to do while my wife is with our 10-year-old at a birthday party. I instructed him to hold his cone up straight, warned him to hold it with two hands. Three licks in, the one scoop of ice cream fell to the ground. He started crying, cone still in hand. A nearby teen witnessed the incident and suggested the five second rule was in effect. It was a funny remark and I said "I hope so". I left it to my son to decide after I picked up the ice cream with a napkin and placed it back on top of the cone, as if it never fell in the first place. "You want this one or a new one?" As I surveyed the ground, noticing a decent amount of bird shit, I have to say he made the right choice in asking for a new cone. I asked for a dish this time, and paid up. He made it through the ice cream this time without a hitch. 

Much more happened during the weekend, but I've already used up 18 of the 30 minutes I allotted myself to compose this weekend wrap. Going to give this a quick proofread and make sure 7-year-old is in pajamas, as bedtime is fast approaching. 

The end.

Picture of the Day (Goodbye, Toys R Us)

Those of us immersed in suburbia are accustomed to an extensive selection of big box stores. It's an interesting development to see some of the old school ones close. This Toys R Us is located about 10 minutes from where I live. I was thinking today about how, in my suburban life, time is often measured in how long it takes to drive from point A to B.

Picture of the Day

Took this picture in a grocery store parking lot this morning, immersed in suburbia.

People Are Surprisingly Nice On Occasion (The Claw Machine Edition)

Since the tine my kids became old enough to ask to play the claw machine, I have worked hard to tell them it's a scam and a waste of money. Sometimes you gotta be a killjoy parent. When the moon might be blue we'll give each of our kids a dollar and let them have at it. Today was one such day. Our kids ran across a restaurant and were back in thirty seconds flat after predictably not retrieving a stuffed animal that they would have forgot about thirty seconds later had they happened to grab one. I digress. The point of this is that a couple was sitting near the claw machine, and, apparently having observed our kids experience the agony of defeat, gave them two dollars to try again. This was two more dollars for the claw machine to enjoy for dessert but there was winning in the losing. You see, this was an act of kindness from strangers (albeit within the constraints of late capitalism) and though our kids were twice disappointed, my wife and I were happy to point out how nice it was for these kind folks to try to help them achieve the thrill of victory. Across the room we hollered thank you and thanked them one more time when they left the restaurant. The weekend is only half over but no matter what happens the rest of the way, it has already been a good weekend.

Immersed in Suburbia (Park Where You Want Edition)

In a coffee shop where I conduct observations for my Immersed in Suburbia project, I stared out the window waiting for the caffeine to kick in on a cold Monday morning. I saw three instances of people in SUVs parking directly in places marked NO PARKING. It occurred to me they have no expectation they would be ticketed. It struck me as an example of how suburbanite consumers operate in middle-class spaces without being policed.

Immersed in Suburbia - Proud To Stand For Our National Anthem Edition

Lately in my travels around town, I've seen this bumper sticker numerous times. Took this picture yesterday. There's also a sticker for the National Rifle Association.

Picture of the Day - Oprah 2020 (!!)

Took this a few minutes ago while driving through my town.

Photo of the Day - Resist

In my travels, immersed in suburbia, I often see pro-Trump stickers and decals on autos, especially trucks. I'm less likely to see a political message like this one. Caught my eye while walking through the parking lot of a grocery store I frequent.

Song of the Day - You Really Got Me (Van Halen version)

I've lived long enough for You Really Got Me to become a supermarket song. The Van Halen version (a cover of the original by The Kinks) played as I walked out of a Wegmans where I'm immersed in suburbia.

Sign of the Times

Took this picture today while driving in my suburban town: "Shoot Your Local Heroin Dealer"

Tweet of the Day (Bumper Sticker Edition)

Lately, I'm seeing the bumper sticker Proud to Stand for Our National Anthem

Here, immersed in suburbia, I doubt I'll see one that says Proud to Take a Knee Because I'm Concerned about Inequality

Learning to Observe Again

As I'm feeling my way to a new project I'm calling Immersed in Suburbia, I'm getting back in the practice of doing observations. This morning I hit up a Target near my suburban home, and decided to sit in the Starbucks "cafe" after finishing up my shopping.

I decided not to use a notebook, figuring I'd just type notes on my phone. Plus it's 2017 and who sits around with a little notebook?

So I sat at the "cafe" for an hour sipping coffee. I have "cafe" in quotes because I'm not sure what to call the Starbucks space that is adjacent to the check out lines where they have 5-6 tables. It's not an inviting space to stay. I didn't see anyone here doing work or conducting business as they might in an actual coffee shop. Most people grab and go.

This was a boring space to observe. But in a way, it was the perfect place to observe and watch the wheels of capitalism go round and round. From my vantage point I watched people come through the line and either make their way to the Starbucks counter or to the exit. I quickly remembered that in doing observations one must get comfortable with the waiting. It's okay when "nothing" happens. This is something I recall Peter Moskos writing about for a chapter in the book New Directions in Sociology. He's got a chapter entitled "In Defense of Doing Nothing: The Methodological Utility of Introversion".

So I sat, observed, typed notes in my phone, texted my wife (because that feels normal), and waited.

I got myself to pay attention to sounds. If there had been music playing, I would have noticed. Without music I listened for small talk and any other kind of sound. The main sound I heard was that of babies crying. In my phone I typed:
SOUNDS : babies r a crying

That's a section I'll have in my field notes. SOUNDS.

In my phone I typed:
I would say the crying is unbearable but I know from first hand experience it's bearable

There were several babies crying and the crying was loud and I know from my experience not so long ago that it's often a feeling of embarrassment when your baby is crying. Whenever my kids were babies and in crying mode I remember feeling self-conscious as a parent like the world is looking at you judging you "Hey parent can't you get your kid to stop crying and why are you out in public anyway?" I still try to give a half smile or an acknowledging nod to a parent with a crying child but I don't think it usually gets interpreted as parental solidarity. I think it's more like "Hey old guy why are you nodding at me you're weird".

The other sound I heard a lot was the phrase "Merry Christmas". The Starbucks workers were exchanging the phrase with customers. It was pleasant.

What I didn't see (because I try to be mindful of what I'm not seeing or hearing) is people freaking out or being angry. It remains my contention that people are generally terrible and I'd fully expect people's terribleness to come out so close to Christmas with the last minute consumption pressure so strong but in this rare case people were behaving in a congenial way. Let me say I spend a lot of time in Target and on many occasions I've seen people scream at workers and be awful. Here's one such case I wrote up. During my brief observation today, however, people were gentle.

My main observation today is in the form of a question for the Starbucks crowd: Is Starbucks a gendered experience? The whole time I sat in the "cafe" today, it was only women buying coffee and gift cards. I was only there for one hour -- obviously I can't make much out of an hour -- this is why I am asking. At one moment there were 6 women waiting in line. The line kept changing and it was one woman after another. One waited with her baby in a baby carrier. She swayed back and forth and I didn't hear the baby make a sound. Chilling with a baby in a carrier is a skill I never mastered when my kids were little. Anyhow, is there such a thing as a "typical" Starbucks? In a regular Starbucks (one not affixed to Target), are there any gender patterns to observe?

Here's one more thing I typed in my phone:
I wonder how long I can sit here b4 someone says something to me. I'm the type of person that strangers approach

And that's so true. People talk to me all the time in public. ALL THE TIME. Except for this time, lol. No one spoke to me during my hour of observation at the suburban Target-Starbucks (Tarbucks? Starget?) near my home.

The end.

Immersed in Suburbia Fieldnotes (Sylvan Esso edition)

Only have a few minutes before an 8:15 a.m. meeting. Stopped at my favorite coffee shop this morning on way to work. Worker greeted me enthusiastically and with a smile. After completing the transaction, she said something like "There you go sweetie." The word "sweetie" was definitely used. That was fine with me. It was delivered so nicely. She just seemed like a genuinely positive person. I left the parking lot thinking about how some people don't like it when they are called "honey" or "sweetie" by workers. But then Sylvan Esso came on the radio and I got distracted. Sylvan Esso duo is coming to Buffalo for a show in March '18 and I think I should go. I got to hoping my wife will want to go. Here's the song. And now it's time to go to my meeting.

Compliment From a Stranger

An hour ago I received a compliment at the grocery store from the person scanning my groceries. He liked my jacket. I thanked him and noted the jacket is old, around 10 years old. He asked if I get a lot of compliments on it. I said no. The person behind me (a woman) jumped in to say "Nice jacket!" As we laughed, the person behind her (a man) joined the fun and also said "Nice jacket!" It felt nice to get an unexpected compliment. A nice, simple, appropriate compliment (although, I would say, appropriate compliments are in the eye of the beholder) from a stranger is an unusual social interaction that I generally welcome.

It's interesting that the first song I heard on the ride to work this morning was "You've Got a Friend," the Carole King version. First of all, her voice is so lovely in the song. I wonder if you prefer her version or the one by James Taylor. Did you know that Carole King wrote it? I didn't recall that until googling it just now. It's from her Tapestry album in 1971. Here's Carole being awesome:



Anyhow, while driving to work the song put me in a reflective mood about friendship and I was thinking about trying to be a better friend to my friends and then the song took the turn that always catches me by surprise. You see, I don't hear the song a lot so when I do I tend to have forgotten that the song takes a cynical turn. As a Hall of Fame cynic, I like her cynical observation:

"...When people can be so cold
They'll hurt you, and desert you
And take your soul if you let them, oh but don't you let them"

Damn it's true that people will take your soul if you let them. All the more reason that it helps to have a friend, as Carole suggests. And sometimes it even helps to get a compliment from a stranger.

Finally, here's the jacket:

Immersed in Suburbia (Field Notes Edition)

Immersed in Suburbia (Part 2)

As I've written before, this is the quietest place I have ever known.

The kids have finished the school year. They still haven't learned the art of sleeping in. They're both up in the 6:00 hour. It makes for long days. There are screens in the house and they're content to stare into screens as long as you let them. We do morning bike rides in the neighborhood to get outside early in the day and to fight against screen time. It's for me as much as it is for them. I need to put down the damn phone and ease off my reading of 1,000 hot takes and opinions. There are some good opinions out there, though.

To bike around the neighborhood is to have the sidewalks to yourself. It's amazing. Yes, there is a dog walker here and a person getting into their car there, but for the most part there is no action. It's houses not people. We've lived here 5 years and I still can't believe the attention to detail when it comes to lawn care and other property maintenance.

Yesterday and today we did two loops around the neighborhood. Yesterday a woman sitting in her car (coming or going, I'm not sure) noticed us and said "Two times" to us in a tone of encouragement. It's nice to be recognized in a positive way. I'm remembering now there were two old timers shooting the breeze in a driveway and during the second loop I caught their eyes and said "Good morning, gentlemen." One thing I've found in life is that most men don't mind being called gentlemen.

Today I caught the eye of someone doing work on a house, but just as I went into a head nod he turned away.

And soon we were back home. The kids played catch in our front yard for about 5 minutes before getting into an argument. They file many grievances a day and I assume it's that way for a lot of children. "I don't want to hear any complaining" I said, or something like that, and sent them off to their rooms to cool down.

There are a lot of kids in the neighborhood. Friendly kids that play well with my kids. If memory serves, it takes a few weeks for all of us to get into our summer routines, and eventually all the kids start buzzing around, playing together, and the grownups socialize too. Lately, one of my neighbors and I have taken to talking about Wilco and he's kind enough to always offer me a beer. He thought I'd like Sky Blue Sky more than Yankee Hotel Foxtrot but I definitely prefer Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. I'm glad to have a neighbor that shares a love of music and beer.

The end, for now.

Immersed in Suburbia

I have been immersed in suburbia for a while now.

It wasn't always this way.

I grew up in a small city. It was a short walk to school, an even shorter walk to the park. In two blocks you could walk to a candy store, a pizzeria, and a place to buy hot dogs and ice cream. It didn't take many more blocks to get to more places.

I don't know if I imagined that I would live in a suburb in my adult life. I can't remember. The thing that strikes me most about suburbia is the vital importance of cars. I spend a lot of my waking moments in my car. This has made satellite radio important to me. At some point it changed from a luxury to necessity. It keeps me company.

If I walk long enough I can make it to a few places--a deli, a convenience store--but the walk is unpleasant and puts you in automobile traffic. Biking is an option too, but this suburb was not built for bicycles. It's all about cars.

I like walks. When I lived in Buffalo in my 20s I loved taking walks on Elmwood Avenue. I have fond memories of lunchtime walks to get a black bean burrito. It would serve as a reward. Write in the morning. Prepare for class. Then stroll for a burrito. Return home. Do more work. A cat nap was often part of the routine. That was life before kids.

Just before kids came along, my wife and I looked and looked for houses. The affordable houses for us were in the suburbs. We lived in suburb #1 in house #1 with one bathroom. Joyfully, kids #1 and #2 became our family. We moved to suburb #2 to a bigger house with 1 and 1/2 bathrooms. I do not take the 1/2 bathroom for granted. It's the only time in my life I have lived in an apartment or house with more than one bathroom.

This is the quietest place I have lived in my life, I often hear myself saying. I miss the noise of the city, sometimes. Suburb #1 was noisy too. Very noisy. But you can hear a pin drop in suburb #2. The kids play with other kids and neighbors wave and say hello. Sometimes the adults convene for beers. In suburb #1 this was not the norm. Only a few of the neighbors were friendly. Here, they are very friendly.

The days of walking for a burrito are long gone. A break now consists of a trip to the grocery store for provisions. There is a park where I like to go for a walk. There are times when only 3-4 people are there. This is in stark contrast to the days of walking in Buffalo's Delaware Park. On any given afternoon, Delaware Park is busy with walkers, bikers, rollerbladers, and basketball players. Where I walk now is maybe one person shooting hoops and a few people walking dogs. One time I saw a small group of women doing yoga.

I wonder if I'm getting used to the quiet. I kind of blend in wherever I am. I do tend to get restless. I imagine living in different places. It's not necessarily that I think the grass is greener elsewhere. It might be the case that I'm not the type to put down roots in a single place for thirty years.

There is something else about this suburb I will say. I've noticed it before but it really struck me today. Today was garbage day. Wherever else I have lived, garbage day usually meant stray garbage in the street after the garbage was removed by trucks and men. Here, it is near spotless. I have a hard time recalling spills or garbage spewed in the streets. Today, after the trucks came through, I drove to the pharmacy. On my way out of the neighborhood I saw one coffee cup. I kid you not, it stood out to me. Hey look, a piece a garbage. This is one clean place.