tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89536105038871967462012-02-15T22:42:41.963-08:00AhCrookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019068666418118398noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8953610503887196746.post-41613715209798801092008-11-08T02:00:00.001-08:002008-11-08T03:43:39.996-08:00Tonight was seemingly uninteresting, however in one way or another, the sequence of events caught my attention. The night started with a visit to an 'ex-favorite' coffee shop in town, followed by a stop-in at our local Borders, visitation minutes with a friend working near by, and topped off with a not-so-routine appearance at a 'party.'<div> <div>I say 'not-so-routine' because I am a man of 'routine.' After living in Suburbia for twenty one years, one, in stone, carves a set of rules. Whether those rules consist of keeping up appearances at a local restaurant/bar (which litter the Suburban South lands), or, discovering all the hidden troves the city has to offer; in the way of 'chill hills' and 'arroyos.' Either way, it is hard for the individual that possesses one way of spending his/her evenings, to transcend the social credo they are accustomed to, and engage in activities otherwise never considered viable entertainment options by said individual.</div><div> </div><div>In spite of the rarity of these; objectively speaking, social experiments, an impression is left. This impression commences with the individual feeling, to a certain extent, mortified at the predisposed, distaste for the activity. Consequently, engaging oneself with the outer extremities of the social realm the individual is used to becomes a learning experience. </div><div><br /></div><div>One can walk away from the 'not-so-routine' evening with one of two thoughts in mind. Either the night reaffirmed the deeply rooted aversion to the evenings activity, or, the experience places the individual on ceremony. The night can end up in your favor. Making new friends, starting fake conversations that somehow turn into real conversations, exiting at an appropriate time, and returning home to finish your drink and publicly rant and reflect.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh How I Hate You Suburban Southland, but Oh How You Teach Me So Much.</div><div><br /></div><div>HOW DO YOU SPEND YOUR EVENINGS?</div><div>--do you go to your local restaurant/bar--</div><div>--do you go to a friends house--</div><div>--do you stay in, maybe have people over--</div><div>--do you go to some guy/girls house that you just sort of know through 'a friend of a friend'--</div><div>--do you leave your suburban domain and venture to the always happening        major metropolitan area just twenty minutes outside your neighborhood (it's like you practically live there)-- </div><div>--do you go to the local house party--</div><div>--do you discover a 'chill' place to just 'chill;' usually outdoors--   </div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8953610503887196746-4161371520979880109?l=wakeupsuburbia-ahcrooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AhCrookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019068666418118398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8953610503887196746.post-43144791123016320272008-11-06T00:51:00.001-08:002008-11-06T01:54:11.956-08:00I dont  know why, but every time I try logging into my blog, it just tells me to create a new one. This is stupid. Especially considering I cant use my address anymore because it's already been taken; by me. <div>So I guess I'm bowing down, and giving in, to the seemingly unreliable technology of today, and waiting, for a better tomorrow.... </div><div><br /></div><div>A tomorrow in which blogs do not lose our precious hours of banter. A tomorrow in which suburban terrorism is a thing of the past, and people learn to turn to each other for inspiration and education, instead of watching recycled movies and endless gamma television rays. A tomorrow in which gays can get married and divorced like the rest of us, because marriage is about 'love'. A tomorrow in which children grow up to lead a new and modern legacy, as opposed to the safeguarded one laid out for them by their parents. A tomorrow folks, where a young adult stuck in suburbia, can seek refuge in a local park at night, instead of being in the house and asleep since it's the time the rest of his 'well adjusted' neighborhood sleeps. A tomorrow ladies and gentleman, brought to you, by the historic event that took place but a short 18 hours ago.</div><div><br /></div><div>The country is wising up, however from my observations (and I saw a lot of activism this weekend), suburban areas are not. Outside of middle America, 'republican' ideologies are stemming from the upper-middle class suburban communities of the coasts. </div><div>I was watching election coverage last night on public access for a bit, and I happened to catch an interview with my fair city's mayor, who had been doing a bit of drinking (apparently, at local Republican HQ, booze was flowing like the tears of a the poor girl who didn't win prom queen in your hometown). After diverting my attention and reassigning it to the television, I caught the tail end of my beloved Mayor saying "...need to be pushed out of society." This was less than a minute before I heard him begin to answer a question regarding Prop 8. </div><div><br /></div><div>Suburban Terrorism 'my friends.' </div><div>THANKS BUT NO THANKS</div><div><br /></div><div>how was your election day?</div><div>--did you make a difference--</div><div>--did you make the difference your parents wanted you to--</div><div>--did you tell yourself you 'don't like either of the candidates because they're scummy politicians who just lie,' and thus not vote--</div><div>--did you forget--</div><div>--do you not so much care because these decisions don't 'affect you'--</div><div>--did you vote, ditch school and work, and watch election coverage all day with some good friends and drink and smoke--</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>refer to www.wakeupsuburbia.blogspot.com for older posts</div><div>    </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8953610503887196746-4314479112301632027?l=wakeupsuburbia-ahcrooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AhCrookshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09019068666418118398noreply@blogger.com1