My dad and I come from different worlds, configured through different lenses, by way of drastically different what’s more clear: A? or B. Option 1? or 2. Neither view any better nor worse, just the reality of our individually compiled existences, pieced together by all the days of our very different lives, which happened to coincide for a moment.

Of course life taught us different lessons. He was born in the 1950s. I was born in the 80s. Tessa’s kids were born in the 2010+20s. No one knows what kind of wild events they’ll be forced to navigate in this ever changing circus parade. Sure, I’ve fantasized about relating to grandchildren I don’t have or want by reading my childhood diaries aloud during story time, but I can’t claim to understand what it’s like to be a 5-year-old today, just because I was a 5-year-old once, in 1986. That numerical logic applies to everyone everywhere for the rest of time, exponentially times infinity. Also, how long until we start referring to the 2020s as the 20s? When no one alive remembers the 1920s?

Though we’ve been punching through these last few decades from different corners wearing different fits, my dad and I are of the same basic opinion when it comes to the trajectory of society: buckle up folks, shit’s about to get weird. (If people don’t cuss aloud, do they ever cuss in their thoughts?) I do have some questions on whether shit is actually weird, or if this is just what it means to “get old,” but Grandpa can’t even tell us bout the good ‘ole days because neither of us have one. Well, Dad technically is one, but his story is skewed. 

You know, version skew. That thing when the build environment has already upgraded to the new version, but a lot of work has to be done to prepare production for these new “enhancements” so things might look and feel different between versions (for those of you new to IT). Anyway. I can’t offer wisdom on how to navigate the particular brand of chaos you were born into, I’m flying by the seat of my pants here too, but a piece of advice I’m fairly confident in spreading, the answer is rarely more speed.

Sometimes when I’m walking Fred, honing in on all the sounds and sights and smells his keen ears eyes and nose are picking up, I have thoughts I swear come straight from him, beamed up through his leash, things like, wow, how amazing it is we’re in this unspoken agreement to not just like, body check each other when we pass on the sidewalk.

I can see when he doesn’t trust whatever’s coming at him, how his body tenses or perks or his gait changes. I know the dogs he’s probably gonna get sassy with, the ones he barely registers. Save yer yapping tiny dogs, his favorite pastime is pretending you don’t exist. He still demands his morning trot around the hood to layer his piss over any pee that pissed over his in the last 24 hours, but lately I’ve had to trick him into his evening poop stroll, and I no longer question why. Night creatures are terrifying. 

Within two minutes of coaxing him out for a solstice prance a few weeks ago, we witnessed a meeting of vehicles meant to ebb and flow, but with drivers firmly in their own bubbles. The car in front signaled to turn left, but surprise! Someone was crossing the street in this very walkable neighborhood. Car One couldn’t turn as quickly as expected, so Car Two, OUTRAGED at the inconvenience of the unexpected break lights or caught off guard while focusing on his phone, doesn’t really matter, ROARS around Car One, zooming the dozens of feet to the next stop sign in a dramatic display of annoyance at the “idiot driver” who did in fact stop mid-turn unexpectedly, but very intentionally, to avoid running someone over.

Fred’s been logging that kind of shit for years. He’s never been a city dog. Too aware of it all, constantly on edge.

We’re always in such a hurry. Why? Have we always been like this? According to 1992 Alabama (the band), yes. Only I’m just now putting any meaning to these words:

I’m in a hurry to get things done,
I rush and rush until life’s no fun.
All I really gotta do is live and die,
but I’m in a hurry and don’t know why.

Here I was, just interpretive dancing without comprehension, classic 12 year old.

Like Fred, I too am in amazement we just trust other cars to follow the rules instead of something unhinged, but your only job while driving is to drive. Pay attention. All other players in this game are on their own journey. Ya’ll ain’t always on the same level or equipped with the same tools. Be present. Cuz you never know. The car in front of you may not be going where you are going. The car behind you might be an asshole.

I feel particularly qualified to tsk tsk on this. The last 10+ years, I’ve watched the city slowly crawl to my doorstep, the steady thump of a pile-driver plays the backbeat in my eternal soundtrack. My house sits on a corner, one cross street officially considered bike boulevard, meant for safe(r) two-wheeled commutes downtown. It’s not a four way stop, but 50% of the cars think it probably is, while the other 50% know it’s definitely not, regardless of the one who has the actual stop sign. I joke I’m going to time lapse capture the blaring horns, angry shouts from cyclists, screeching breaks, near misses, actual accidents. I work from home, subconsciously filing each and every one. I’ve joined Fred, constantly on edge, with a bit of PTSD.

On December 28, 2023 I enlightened my headspace and stepped into a bath. Ahhhhhh. A bath. Such a simple luxury. Bathroom heater on, lights just right, good tunes, feeling like a queen, when BOOM. The entire house shook. Like swayed. And my bathroom is in the middle as a room on the second floor of a small house can be. Earthquake? In Wisconsin? I spent 10 seconds trying to remember what heavy piece of art I hung on the wall with just a thumb tack, another 10 seconds making a mental note to ask Dad about those guns (sign of the times), and the next moments when nothing else followed, curious.

Mostly driven by what if the house is about to explode, like the main character in a horror film, I figured I should go investigate, or at the very least collect the dogs just in case. I found my house coat, walked downstairs where both Fred and Rapha were sitting on the couch with their WTF-was-that!? eyes staring at nothing, neither making a peep. Oh shit. Even the dogs are quiet. I’ve been mentally preparing to open my door to the apocalypse for years, trigger finger ready to speed dial my dad, “IT’S HAPP-EN-ING.” Everyone should have a theworldisending disaster plan (mine is just, call Dad). I peeked through the glass pattern on the door. 

There was a car in my front yard. Well, in my front yard and on the sidewalk, they’re one and the same, tucked into the edge of my porch. One of my neighbors was leaning into the car parked in my front yard. Oh no! Was it his? People started emerging, firemen, the driver of the other car, more neighbors. I was in a real life video game, click on any person for information, varying levels of usefulness. 

That’s how I found myself listening to the driver with no stop sign explain how the car behind him was being really aggressive, he was just trying to shake him, didn’t even see the car crossing the street because he was so focused on his rearview foe! My immediate response was of empathy. The neighborhood had gotten aggressive lately, night creatures in particular seem very angry on these formerly quiet streets. I mentioned I had a camera and would be happy to check it out if he needed evidence. Plus, the cars at the stop sign always think it’s a four way stop, and IT’S SO FRUSTRATING. 

I went inside for something warmer than a house coat (appropriately named in efforts to stay housebound) and checked the footage from my phone. Just earlier that day it captured not one, but TWO accidents, which the at fault parties were not thrilled about. I am so over that corner, PUNISH THE PERPETRATORS.

Took me a second to piece together who was driving what, but hooooolyyy sheeeet, felt like my dude was pushing 60 when he clipped the tail of the car (who did have the stop sign, but in any normal situation, with all players going the 20 mph posted speed limit, had plenty of time to clear any cross traffic) sending the other driver into a quick spin before taking out the stop sign, greatly reducing the final blow to my house.

My neighbor, the one checking on the drivers, witnessed the event from his bicycle on the boulevard. You can hear him exclaim OH MY GOD after the crash. They could have hit him, but they didn’t, so the first thing he did was make sure everyone was alive and cover the basics, Are you legal? Do you have anything on you I need to dispose of? The world might be getting weird, but I still live in a help thy neighbor sort of hood.

Yes and no. All parties completely sober? Why am I more annoyed? I replayed the crash. You can hear actually hear Fast Driver with no stop sign accelerating from the stop down the block, see him make absolutely zero effort to break, possibly still gaining speed. On bike boulevard. Next to an elementary school. The poor driver crossing the street never stood a chance. 

If my first reaction was empathy, my second was a mixture of COME ON MAN rage and just like, WHHHYYYYYYYYY. All of this could have been avoided, but now my bath is ruined, I gotta deal with this car in my yard, and my headspace is playing catchup. Collecting all these thoughts + a whole lot more, I roared outside. Hard to argue with this visual. WHAT THE FUCK DUDE. YOU.WENT.FASTER??? KIDS FROM THAT (gestures to a building) APARTMENT, WALK TO THAT (gestures to the school across the street) PLAYGROUND ALL THE TIME. YOU COULD HAVE KILLED SOMEONE! I DO NOT CARE WHAT THE CAR BEHIND YOU WAS DOING. THE ANSWER IS NEVER…MORE…SPEED ^{*Shakes fists at sky or something equally dramatic*} FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!!

He was probably confused because before I went inside, we were chummy. He seemed like a decent kid and I happen to understand shit happens. And it’s usually the car with the stop sign’s fault. But that was before I had visual evidence to his verbal account. And boooooy, his logic did not look good. 

Why are you yelling at me???

That was his response. He wanted to know why was I yelling at him.

Even the fireman’s eyes got wide on that one, and though he quickly tried to de-escalate, probably wasn’t the best time to distract me by asking if the second car did any damage, because up until now, like a fool I thought only one car had hit my house. I turned the corner and sure enough, Fast Driver’s car right there kissing the newly minted garage for my own elderly vehicle.

I took a deep breath, checking my internal tolerance for chaos. Was I done? Nope.

WHY AM I….YELLING AT YOU? YOU WERE GOING A HUNDRED MILES AN HOUR. YOU CAUSED TWO CARS TO SMASH INTO MY HOUSE. YOU DID. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL? WHO SHOULD I BE DIRECTING THESE FEELINGS TO? I WAS JUST TRYING TO TAKE A BATH. I’D PREFER NOT TO BE TALKING TO ANYONE AT ALL. But yeah whatever, I don’t want to be yelling at you either. I can stop, but like, you hear what I am saying, right?

He heard me. Something about the way he responded made the empathy return. Big sigh.

Gah..this sucks for both of us. Honestly…mostly for you. That’s just a house, I can fix it. Who knows what’s gonna happen to you, can’t imagine anything good. But you’re right, no need to yell. It’s just, you know, a lot. 

Yeah. Oo did I catch a bit of reality sinking in? I am really sorry about your house. And your bath.

Meh. It’s really not that big of a deal.

And it really wasn’t. Pretty sure we hugged, I wished him luck, and never saw him again.

The next day I walked home to a reporter on my corner and took the opportunity to claim my 15 seconds of local news fame. I didn’t see it myself, who can even watch the news anymore, not sure if any of my incoherent babble aired, but she mentioned mine was the third house hit that day and I was all like, OMG see? Something weird’s going on. People getting inappropriately angry over small inconveniences, like we don’t know how to interact with strangers, just totally forgot how to live as a community.

I’m not measuring society’s temperature with a few erratic drivers, but by the fact we’re increasingly living more and more in our own bubbles, annoyed or unaware of the other cogs in the wheel. What did Fast Driver think I’d find on that camera? Him being chased by the boogieman?

We don’t get out much, of our bubbles or into society. That’s by design. We’ve been tricked into believing all the things we used to look to the community for, we can replicate within the comforts of our very own homes! Exercise equipment that makes you feel like you’re in a class! Arcades, game nights? Who needs ’em, when you got a couch and VR. Social media rabbit holes designed to make you feel like the best part of life is watching other people live. Food delivery services, big box store pickup – please, why deal with crowds, with life? Half of us are already mostly silent talking heads in tiny box on a screen. Goodbye Office Space, hello Severance.

Everyone bored and brainwashed in their bubbles, saturated to a point we’re over everything before anything even starts, cuz whatever it is, it all feels done. Ubiquitous. A steady stream of buzz words and generic trends, driven by algorithms, everyone looks the same, acts the same, mashing together to form the collective resting bitch face of society.

We live in silos, trained to view basic human needs as modern inconveniences, to believe reality is just the poor man’s version of living.

I don’t have anything else to say, but I don’t like my periods dipped in doom.

I have this coat, I think it’s a 100% faux gazelle or something, I don’t know, it’s ridiculous. I wear it because I love it and it’s insanely warm, but also because it breaks invisible conversation barriers. Kids can’t stop staring, forces their moms to interact with me. They always want to touch it. The kids, not the moms, though both end up petting my arm. The neighbor we can’t be friends with because our dogs absolutely hate each other, made it a point to shout how much his parents looked forward to seeing us round the block while they were housesitting, look honey! here they come! all while our dogs spit profanities at each other from across the street. At the grocery store, a woman in approached me from behind complimenting my fabulous coat. I turned around flashing my toothless grin to Christmas personified, and ooooo don’t you wear it well, really kickstarting a scene of mutual appreciation.

It’s not even that wild of a coat, it’s just…different. A conversation starter. A reason to say hello. It’s always been the time, but there’s never been a better time than now to be exactly who you are. The fate of society rests on you. Dun dun dun_{. ^{(period dipped in drama, not doom, maybe a touch of gloom)}}