Thursday, March 27, 2008

Today my friends locked themselves to the doors of a military recruiter's station, and I ended up standing by feeding them and tucking in blankets. The counter-protesters offered their jackets in an ostentatious display of their generosity of spirit. I often find myself at odds in these situations; negotiating my aversion to confrontation with my idealism, and somehow incorporating the brave yet diplomatic personality I would like to have, as well as the desire to win or maintain the respect of my peers. The police decided not to bother them, except to closely examine their chaining tactics in order to prepare for the coming RNC in St. Paul.

San Francisco proved to be just about all I dreamed of...it seems like a trap, because after you live there everything else would pale in comparison. I saw Josh at his outdoors school in the Pescadero Valley by the sea...it seems too good to be true. I don't know how one could really sustain that amount of energy over the course of a year. Josh walked into that job when he had absolutely no plans for after TA. Sometimes blindfolds are a good thing. Do I have the mental wherewithal to disappear into the wilderness for a year or two without a solid measure of my effect on the world? This type of ego-less endeavor is, in a way, something I aspire to. Even if I were to have some solid impact on policy in DC (...which probably wouldn't happen, anyway), I don't know if I would feel satisfied sending that energy off into space. Sooner or later you've got to bring home the BACON.

San Fran was also interesting in that we found ourselves in the company of so many rich people who work for Apple or for investment banks in London. Julia's uncle, with whom we stayed for a few days, is a professional dog-walker, bringing in upwards of $800/week. Her aunt is an organizer--she is paid to help people take control of the clutter in their homes, and she sneaks in a good deal of psychoanalysis along the way. We went wine tasting in the gorgeous Napa Valley on a sunny day. I am convinced that wine tasting is a crock. No wine is "choclatey" or "musky" or "with a hint of espresso at the end." Wine tasting, in my eyes, is another delightfully gigantic lie that has been blown way out of proportion over the centuries. Anyway, I marvel at the fact that such an elaborate economy can exist entirely for the purpose of meeting the superfluous needs of the wealthy. I know that the way I wrote that made me sound cynical, but I have started to try to marvel when I can without letting my misgivings affect my ability to value other people.

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