Make a little money, take a lot of shit
Feel real bad, then get over it
I have started taking the #5 Minibus to yoga. It is not much faster as it goes to Happy Valley via Shouson Hill, but it allows me the luxury of not having to hop off a ferry onto a bus and off a bus and onto a ding-ding, all with a little walking in between. So, it is good for providing time for contemplation. The other morning I was sort of spacing out watching the world go by, as I am prone to do at 7 a.m., and driving past all of the warehouses in Wong Chuk Hang got me thinking… about… stuff.
This part of Aberdeen/South Hong Kong is really interesting to me; it is totally industrial looking and full of warehouses, many of which look empty. Who knows if they really are, but it has the feel of an area poised on the brink of gentrification. And, even if it gentrification passes it by because the MTR never really gets here, or something else keeps the area as a sort of randomly overlooked place, it would be cool to get a floor in one of these buildings and make it a kick ass loft. Serious. This area has way more potential than Manhattan’s Meat Packing District. Okay, well, at least as much anyhow. Not that I am advocating in the least for Lan Kwai Fong II, but as I watched the buildings go by I thought, “That would be a fun project.”
I had to shake my head and bring myself back to reality. The reality in which I have no plan that allows for things like buying industrial spaces and converting them into cutting edge living spaces. As I mentioned the other day, I ran into someone I used to know at the Rugby Sevens. He told me he had gotten married. To a local girl. In congratulating him (and trying to not register the “I got the fever” comment) I said, “So, you are in it to win it over here, eh?” To which he replied, “Hell yeah, what, are you going back to Cali?” [*Go LL.] In my efforts to be nonchalant and non-committal I was vague. He didn’t really care either way, but was just like, “What the fuck would you go back to the States for?” It gives one pause, no matter who you hear it from… nd you hear ot from everybody, but seriously, I have no answer. At the same time I don’t have an answer for why I would stay here either.
Back to reality in Wong Chuk Hang, It dawned on me: I’ve got no plan, Stan. I wondered… Who would buy these buildings which could be seriously amazing living spaces tucked up against green hills and with sea views. You could amass square footage unheard of in Hong Kong and have all sorts of options to make them amazing residences.
You know who?
People with a plan, that’s who.
People who are actively squirreling away money for their later years, who have goals of real estate magnate-ness, who are doing for today in order to make tomorrow. And it is not that I am in some dire straights or facing life on the streets or something. It is just that, logistics aside, I have no idea what I want anymore. The more I thought about it, the more blank my mind became. I started trying on all sorts of scenarios. None of them fit. It is not even relevant to write them down here, suffice it to say that no matter how elaborate or outrageous I envisioned things, they did not seem satisfying. Even going the other direction and contemplating the simplest and most ascetic things, nothing seemed like a ride I wanted to get on.
This from the kid who has ALWAYS had a plan. I mean, seriously.
Shit, even my spontaneity has always been planned -beat that. And then, chilling out on the #5, cruising over Shouson Hill on a Tuesday morning, my brain decides to awaken me to the fact that I have no plan? What? All these people I know, they all have plans. Do this, do that, buy a business, start a business, get rich, move here, move there, go off the grid, get married, be married, have kids, get divorced – okay maybe not part of the plan, but it is happening like crazy… They all have some sort of goal. Why don’t I? I seriously considered going back to school this year, but it was really just so I could have a plan. How is it possible that someone as organized, competitive, basically able, mostly rational, and generally extremely well-prepared as I am could not have a plan – even a goal, beyond the sort of immediate things? Am I defective or innovative? I can’t work it out.
I am making all sorts of changes in the next few months. Stuff that would normally completely freak me out and it is not. But even all that stuff really has no specific outcome attached to it. When people ask what I am getting up to or what I am going to do… like, in the big picture sense, I have taken to shrugging. Seriously. And this is definitely not some ridiculous attempt to appear mysterious or subtle, two traits I run quite low on in general. It is because that is the answer. Real talk. The girl is absent a plan. It is fucking weird. Where’s Lucy when you need her?
Anyhow, someone I wish I could tell all my plans to asked me about my plans this morning, said he wanted to know more. I got nothing for ya, kid. I am going to scream my head off cheering against Coach K and the Duke Bluedevils and all their disciples tomorrow, and I am going to India on May 1st. Other than that….
Oh, I keep pushing boulders
I stay game until sun’ll shake my shoulders
Oh, I keep feeling older
I stay game, stay game, stay game