What is real?
The reality for me is that this week has taken it's toll. People have been quite odd lately. Working too much has a price and that is exhaustion. Plus, a really good sign that it's time to slow down and assess is when you get in a fight with a homeless guy.
The question in question kept coming up for me in different ways this week. The continuing facebook experiment first birthed it after an offhand comment from a friend. When telling said friend what I do for a living (a question that is asked often), one of those things I mentioned was marketing. I was told in a joking way that it's good to have marketing to keep me in the "real world".
Really?
As we watch our "real world" institutions and structures crumble on a daily basis, it got me wondering "What is real"?. Is it the structured suburban family life or life on a trippy tropical island? The answer is both because we create our own reality.
I'm not sure everyone sees this but it is very empowering if you do. A lot of people think Key West is an unreal place and I say to that, it has it's own reality which can have a pressure cooker feel depending on who you are around.
Something I experience after listening to a co-worker who has a bad habit of blabbering on about what he doesn't have which tends to be a lot. He always feels stiffed in some way even though he has a thriving business and works at a good place. His reality is not mine.
I watch a revolving door of tourist neighbors come in and out of my compound. They sit poolside sipping on Coronas as I head off to work or to do whatever the day entails. I get strange looks while walking in and out, slipping into different outfits to match the person I need to be at which place I work. When I interviewed in college for an internship at Disney they called all their workers "castmembers". That's what this is, minus the furry suit, thank God.
Am I bursting the tourist bubble with the reality of work? Well, the reality is I need to work to pay my bills and there is a backside to every environment, even a tropical playground. POP.
Am I not considered "real world" because I don't sit behind a desk and shuttle myself back and forth to an office park? No. That's not my reality and I have made it that way for a reason. I farm out my skills and services to a number of businesses that I choose to be a part of.
I watch a group of kayakers struggle against a bit of wind and hear them wonder aloud "when will it all be over?". Did they not grasp the reality of a 2 hour tour or exercise for that matter? The best comment of the day was uttered after pulling a sea star out of the water to pass around for people to examine. A woman refused to look at it cause as she said she had already seen one on TV.
Really?
Is TV now considered more real than the actual thing? That's frightening and definitely not my reality.
Or perhaps consider a group of writers eating at the restaurant. It's quite interesting to listen to certain writers talk. This evening, it's mindless ego babble or as the chef I work for accurately described it as mental masturbation.
They discuss in verbose language about how writers who use computers don't really write. They all take pride in the fact that not one of them knows how to use a computer and writers who do aren't "true writers". It makes sense. I guess this assures you of one true reader since there will be a person who has to read your chicken scratch in order to transcribe it. Last time I checked, there wasn't a longhand written book at the library.
Is this reality? That question is quickly answered when the man in question who made these comments shows me he has not read the menu by ordering things we don't have. I guess "true writers" don't read either. Again, not my reality.
The dealings with people not dealing with their reality has been tough this week. As evidence by my verbal scuffle with a homeless guy who gave me a long disgusting stare accompanied by a very ungentlemanly comment.
Really?
Yeah, cause no one talks to me like that in my reality.
