American culture, Life, Philosophy, Uncategorized

Drunk America

There is a hilarious recurring character on Saturday Night Live called “Drunk Uncle” that shows up from time to time on Weekend Update. Bobby Moynihan delightfully portrays the classic embodiment of every family member we distance ourselves from at holiday gatherings, who might be slightly drunk, slightly racially biased or worse, both.

At least, that was the starting point for the concept of the character. In more recent years and appearances, really Drunk Uncle has become the curmudgeon everyman, sarcastically and unapologetically pointing out how different the world has become through technology. His sweater and jacket combo are the same as his plight: the world kind of sucks right now.

Drunk Uncle – Graduation

As funny as these skits are, it is even funnier that most people laugh at the jokes, then turn around and find themselves doing many of the same things Drunk Uncle is condemning. Whether it is the off-handed slurs or the over-use of technology to promote oneself, we should be laughing at ourselves.

The problem is, we are so narcissistic, we don’t get that we are the punchline.

America is running afoul and we, as citizens, are too concerned with our own image and personal public relations campaign to notice. A misstep and we simply say we’re being individuals. We write off most things by throwing out catchy phrases, as pointed out in this New York Times piece.

“You do you”? “It is what it is”? “Keeping in real”? What the heck does any of that even mean, anyway? Of course you are doing you, who else would you be doing? Wouldn’t you doing someone else just be an imposter? It certainly is not what it is not. And why is there a strong need to keep things real? When did things become fake that we had to tell people we are keeping our feet on the ground?

We are always doing us. Sometimes it’s angry you, depressed you, happy you, volatile you, sarcastic you, hurt you, compassionate you, betrayed you, joyful you, religious you, feisty you, helpful you or spiteful you, but it’s always you.

Oh, but we like to pretend. We enjoy putting on the show of who we want the world to think we are. From trolling comment sections, Facebook posts and Twitter feeds, we’re all about that face.

Being insensitive, being narcissistic, being flat-out self-centered is not a license to write off your actions with “h8trs gonna h8!” This has wormed its way into society like a catchy pop song – oh, wait, it was a catchy pop song.

No, we’re not gonna hate.

We’re not allowed to even remotely look like we’re the eighth cousin, twice removed from hate. Then again, should you slightly, distantly look like you’re heading toward a path of hate, Haterade will rain down in buckets like you just won the national championship of hate.

Just please don’t look at the skeletons in our closet, right? Nothing to see here, move along! You do you, right?

(I did learn, it’s OK, however, to talk about hate in the past tense, as long as it involves Christian Laettner.)

Americans always seem ready and willing to stand and fight injustice – right after we’ve been shown just how bad it is by someone else, all the while ignoring our own issues and faults.

Anyone who tries to take away equality, or slightly resembles to treat different groups without equality is going to see a whole lot of what Indiana saw this past week (and what it will continue to see if something isn’t changed).

indiana law

It makes very little difference any more what is real or true about the bill that was passed, all that matters now is the fallout. The state is in the midst of a PR nightmare, one that has already been lost. The window has closed, the verdict sealed.

The world of social media has tried Indiana, it’s legislators, it’s governor, it’s people and passed down its verdict – there is no stopping the court of public opinion. Forget arguing that you can inform the uninformed, or “convince” anyone anything different than what they’ve already heard and believed.

The media dominates, writes the story, and controls the narrative. It is completely naïve to think otherwise. And the power of the medium allows for quick dissemination of a whole truckload of judgement, condemnation and reaction – and reaction to the reaction of a reaction.

Supporters say the bill is to defend religious freedom, opponents claim the law discriminates. We’ll never truly know.

It’s possibly safest to assume that both sides are correct. It’s always somewhere in the middle – a place we refuse to go or even visit. Compromise is one of the hardest places to find and it’s not labeled on any map. Siri can’t help you. Compromise does not allow it’s picture to be taken. It has too much humility to pose for a selfie, too much dignity to be reduced to a hashtag.

And this is why it eludes us.

We all have a sphere of influence; we just greatly misconstrue what to do with it. Social media allows you to build and sell your brand. Every post you make, every favorite, like, share and retweet.

Now, this may or may not be who you actually are – but that does not really matter. It is what you show the world you are. You are marketing you, and you build your brand.

If you want to change the world, hate won’t beat out hate. Shaming others won’t do it either. You cannot change the world, you can really only change your world – and by doing so, through your sphere of influence, the world around slowly changes over time.

So many people tell us of the ills of society (just check your news feed).  They will complain (check your news feed). They will condemn others who do not think and act as they do (maybe you should check your news feed). They will tell you that you are, in fact, wrong (you might find examples in your news feed). Now how many times when someone told you that you were wrong did it actually change your mind? (Bet it’s not in your news feed.)

I’ll venture a guess: Zero.

The message is half as important as the messenger.

Throughout history, powerful orators – great messengers who would no doubt come up with far better handles and hashtags – have influenced mass amounts of people to do really great things.

They have also persuaded entire populations to do really dumb things, terrible or horrific things.

The difference between disagreeing and intolerance is a thin line, and we are unaware that we have crossed it until it is too late. The same holds true then in how we conduct ourselves with others in person.

Life cannot be done as it is on social media. It is not a hashtag. Some of this stuff is real and important and needs to be treated as such.

Intolerance? Hatred? Unwilling to compromise?

Americans drunk on ego?

That’s not you?

Hopefully, that’s not anybody.

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American culture, Communications, Society & Culture

Emoji’s & Emotions

Earlier this week, after finishing a family dinner, my wife and I randomly started listening to songs from our younger days while cleaning up.

Acting goofy at first, we probably looked like Ferris Bueller belting out some tunes in his shower at the start of a big day off. We picked a lot of fast paced songs, knowing it would draw some attention from the audience (OK, so it was our kids) if we kept up with the lyrics.

ferris-bueller-singing-in-the-shower

“You know a lot of words to a lot of songs, guys,” said our sweet-hearted 8-year-old daughter.

This comment sparked a conversation about how the words and lyrics to these old songs (weird to say, since most of them were late 90s and early 00s country songs) meant something different to both my wife and I.

As we sang in harmony (well, kinda), our daughter sat and stared for a little while. I could read her mind, and briefly, she seemed impressed that we had remembered and memorized the subtle voice inflections of each song.

Soon enough, her fascination ended and she went back to playing with her younger brothers, who were apparently caught in a game of home many pairs of underwear and ball shorts they could wear at once. They nicknamed themselves Capty Underwears and Capty Shorts, so clearly they weren’t listening to the songs to begin with. (And yes, this what 6-year-old and 3-year-old boys tend to do.) Our eldest son, turning 13 this Sunday, however, listened to the songs, but his eyes never came up from his iPad.

There was one song in particular that we listened to that made me realize how much our society has changed due to the technology advancements of just the past 10-15 years.

As my wife selected The Dixie Chicks “Travelin’ Soldier,” the overall themes found in the tragically sad love story of a young man sent off to Vietnam and the young girl he’d wrote letters to strike a different kind of chord with me.

It is painfully obvious that we’re drifting apart in our communications with each other. I have tackled this topic before, but I must admit, there is a hint of sadness within me that envelopes each advancement in technology and communications.

0418_couple-texting_sm

We don’t write love letters anymore.

We text emoji’s and short, grammatically incorrect phrases. And then we wonder why people don’t “get us” or wonder why we have a hard time communicating in serious relationships.

We don’t visit or call as much, we text and send Facebook messages and post on digital “walls.” And then we wonder why we don’t see our friends anymore.

Never has there been a more appropriate term than a Facebook “wall,” because in essence, I’ve come to realize that is truly what social media does: it builds walls.

We may be more “connected” than ever before in human history, but emotionally and spiritually, we are more disconnected than we can possibly imagine.

Last week, I read this story in the New York Times on the world of Middle School Instagram. Both fascinated and terrified, I couldn’t believe the emotional turmoil that takes place in the world of 7th grade girls and boys over who follows whom, their follower to followed ratios and who is tagged in each delicately planned post.

Look, I remember 7th grade. It’s no picnic. Hormones raging, self-doubt waging a war on perception versus reality. I cannot imagine having to do it in this social media driven world.

When we examine our exposure to and on these channels of communication, we come to find that we’ve often revealed too much for public consumption. I’ve heard many friends say this, and I agree: Had Facebook and Twitter been around in the 90s, I’m not sure I could get a job or be very well regarded today.

It’s not that I did anything illegal or terribly bad, it’s just that the whole world didn’t know about me and my buddies toilet papering a house in the fall of 1997, or the Spring Breaks in Florida, or…you know, I think I’ve proved my point.

It’s not that everything can be shared now so much as it is that not everything should be shared now.

Those private moments between you and some friends, you and a date, you and your wife or loved ones, those are yours. They build bonds and form deep friendship and companionship because you and they were the only ones to experience it, to know what it was like to be in that moment in time.

If you share every moment, trivial or significant, what is left to stand out? Why should the person who sat next to you in freshman algebra, but you haven’t spoken to since, well, freshman algebra, get to share that?

All I know is that I used to have deep, meaningful, philosophical conversations with several people who once meant a great deal to me – and still do. Mentors, family friends, buddies. For quite some time now, that has given way to text messages and birthday posts on a wall, joined by hundreds of other “friends” doing the same.

Time, distance, whatever the case may be, I miss those conversations. I miss those friends and mentors. My fear is that too much time has passed, too much left unspoken. Now, those relationships have been forever changed and altered. All because we stopped talking and started taking the time to take the time.

One of the strongest points of my relationship with my best friend, who happens to be my wife, is our commitment to talking. We started out talking in a college history class in the fall of 2003 and really haven’t shut up since.

I wrote her poems, she left notes on my truck windshield. I keep the first one she ever wrote in my wallet to this day.

note

For generations over, the world has communicated through talking face-to-face or with pen and paper. We had the time to thoughtfully prepare a letter, or a note.

Now, we can barely text 10 words with our thumbs without losing interest. We’re lazy in our friendships and relationships and the cracks are showing.

In the spaces in between TTYL and C YA SOON, lies what is unspoken, what is implied, what is missing. We’re connected, but we’re not connecting. I have fewer new memories with these family friends, buddies and mentors. While no doubt brought on by the busyness of life, we are fractured by what has not been said, what has not been mended or fixed, what lack of time has wrought.

As smiley face cannot replace a face with a smile. LOL cannot replace an a friend actually laughing out loud. These things are just meant to be placeholders until we can meet or talk again. Except for the part where we aren’t really getting together again.

Tonight, and for many more days and nights in the years ahead, my wife and I will try to combat the technological grip on societal interactions through our children. We’ll play music and listen to the words.

We will gather at dinner and talk about our days, our experiences, our frustrations and our successes.

We’ll try to get them to put the phones down and turn the TV off. We will encourage them to write notes and call their friends.

Emoji’s don’t equal emotions.

I’ve got a letter in my wallet that reminds me of that.

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