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October 18, 2010
These Aren't the Droids We're Looking For
This morning, I get ready at the hotel. I'm glad that I won't be checking out when I wake up. How's that for something to be thankful for? To get to stay in the same hotel for more than one night.
So I go outside and climb onto the cold steel motorcycle. It roars to life beneath me and now I'm heading into work at 70 mph. I'm cold, but not painfully so. It's only for a few miles after all. I have no gas, but I have enough to make it to work, don't I? I hope so.
I exit off of 151 onto County Road C, heading north. I decide to gas up after work and pass the gas station. I have enough, right?
I make it into work and I park the loud beast in the parking lot. I dismount and pull my helmet and start walking toward the building.
Surging with adrenaline and pride from my weekend journey, I feel like a Roman gladiator. Like I'm returning from conquering a foreign land. Something out of the Illiad and the Odyssey. Like I'm the baddest guy that ever walked the planet.
I walk inside the building and at lunch, I see all these people, slaving away in the squalid cubes of corporate amerika. In the cafeteria at lunch, they're sitting around like mice nibbling on crumbs they've brought in to save a few dollars I want to say something, but I'm not sure what.
I want to say, "I'm not sure what life is about...but I'm sure that this isn't it. We weren't designed to work for computers. To be shackled to keyboards day and night, eating from vending machines and running on treadmills. Communicating via texts and tweets and emails. This isn't life. Not even close.
But it isn't like I have any answers, really. I'm not clear what we should be doing, really. It's not like I have mantra or a philosophy that would make it clear what we should be doing, exactly. I only know that this isn't it.
On Saturday, I was running 98 mph through the North Woods of Michigan's Upper Peninsula. At triple digits, I bend over the handlebars really low and I have to re-arrange the cameras on my gas tank because I lost a lens cap on the first day. So, I'm sort of not paying attention, rearranging the cameras on my gas tank running just under 100 mph, when Chak overtakes me in the passing lane going 147 mph.
Now, imagine standing on the very edge of a highway, facing away from traffic, when a car comes by at 50 mph, about 6 feet from you. Think about that.
Now, imagine that you were going 100 mph and someone came by you that fast...150 mph...50 mph faster than you. I nearly wet my pants.
And maybe that's not the best way to spend your time. But growing roots in a cube farm's not the right answer either.
Posted by Rob Kiser on October 18, 2010 at 8:16 PM
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