Hotdogs!
I hadn’t heard from my brother in over a month. I was not surprised and neither upset. He’s a buffering rock star, you know? I can already imagine him waltzing on stage with his bad ass attitude, his posse and for whatever reason bumble bee type sunglasses. Do you remember the ones that were really popular in the early two thousands? Yeah, those. Whatever, this is my story. So anyways. He told me how with his life long group of friends, who are also his band, roommates and good fellas, they get together once a week to have band meetings. During one of these they had to resolve a potential inconvenience at an event they’re organizing and one of the band members came up with a mind boggling, so bad it’s so good, solution. And since then I couldn’t stop imagining the scene.
I envision them sitting around a rectangular wooden table. One that’s clearly too short for my brother as he hunches over it. They’re all shirtless because twenty year old soon-to-become world famous musicians are whay above laundry day. They have the demeanor that young men their age tend to have. One that portrays few showers taken, few hours slept and several spliffs smoked. They have an event coming up. The first of it’s kind. They’ve never organized something quite like this. They’re feeling electric. The kind of feeling and rush you can only get when you’re one hundred percent certain of the inevitability of success. The kind of certainty that you only have at a certain age. The one that can make or break you. Even though, at that age, with that mindset and that experience lived, failure isn’t so much a worry as is brushing your teeth every once in a while. As they sit, puff, scratch their armpits and stretch out their arms as they yawn in triumph one abruptly stands up pushing the chair to the back of the room with the strength of his legs, drops his palms on the wooden surface and after a short pause reports: Hot dogs!
That’s the solution. Of course. What else could possibly make more sense? The problem: keeping people in one place as long as possible as to become enamored with the sweet sounds of indie rhythms. The solution: fucking hot dogs! Duh!
I wish I could enter this persons brain. How fascinating to be a part of the logical thought process that brings to such a conclusion and to be so certain of it’s propriety.
I miss having certainties. I yearn to wake up in the morning and have no doubts in my mind about my next steps because everything is “right”. All that I’m doing makes perfect sense. Not only to me but objectively. In the world. The universe. I’m right. That’s what I wish adulthood hadn’t taken away from me.
See, one thing that I’ve developed in this particular phase of my life is rampant uncertainty. I was always so sure about everything. About the nature of all things. Yet lately I’m questioning even the smallest aspects of my life. Even which type of non dairy milk to buy.
But not hot dog guy.
Now we can argue that his may not be the best answer to the question at hand. In the real world, the one that is unpredictable and moody, there are no hot dogs. Because there are no right or wrong solutions to any problem. There are the consequences to a decision you can try your hardest to predict but that fundamentally, until you’re walking the walk, you won’t know the outcome of.
This week I fumbled with some interesting decisions. I had no idea in which direction to go and I postponed the final choice until I couldn’t distract myself any longer. Has that ever happened to you? You’re head just runs out of useless things to distract you with? It’s funny, really. How my head works, I mean. For most part of the last two weeks I’ve been running around over the most superficial things. Waxing my car. How my hair looks. What a boy thinks. How to get 10,000 steps in every day. All things that have no utility. Not really. Not in the long term anyways. Except for maybe the 10,000 steps, it’s always good to get off your lazy ass if you have nothing better to do than watch videos about the latest YouTube beef. Then, two days ago, my brain just goes: Okay, I’m done. I really couldn’t possibly give any more shits about the different ways these channels commented on the same video. About what he may or may not think. About whether you should continue using apple cider vinegar on your hair or not. I’m done! Get the real shit, put them in a bag or something, and get it together! And so I did.
Two main decisions were made. Two that I was reluctant to make. Why? Because I want everything. I want every possible outcome to manifest itself and that can’t happen if I decide in going in one specific direction. Once that’s done I will never know where I would have ended up if only I had taken the other road down that intersection. This bothers me. I guess I just need to make the best decision I can considering as many variables as possible. The thing is these are the kinds of decisions I won’t know if they are right because they, well, they aren’t.
Let me explain. According to existentialist theory there is no such thing as a meaning of life. Therefore there is no right or wrong way of living it. There are no right or wrong decisions because there is no ultimate goal or destination to reach. There is only the absurdity of life. The meaninglessness of life. We can give meaning to our lives by making decisions in our best interest. Or in good faith as my man Sartre would say. I believe this to be true. Yet the decision process still confuses me. What is in my best interest? What are decisions in good faith for me?
I came to the conclusion that the best thing you can do is do what you can with what you know now to be true. For example: your financial situation, your living situation, your work situation, your health situation, your current interests, your immediate circle of friends, your current favorite breakfast. Decide, objectively, what they are. Which can be quite daunting especially when you’re stark broke, living at home and your best friend in a different country. So now that I’ve looked at everything I have and don’t, what are the most logical steps that are in line with my morals and my goals?
After looking at everything, talking, assuring myself of something and then thinking the complete opposite I came to a final decision. Hot Dogs! Because if no decision is made then there will be no positive or negative outcome. There will just be nothing. I will have nothing to show for myself. Hot Dogs. Because there’s no way of doing it the right way, there is no right way, so I might as well choose something I like. Hot Dogs. Because sometimes you’re fully prepared, you have all the right equipment but no experience so you just have to shoot your shot and hope to god you didn’t hit too far from the target. Hot Dogs. Because, well, who doesn’t like hot dogs?
Until next week,
Hotdogs. I mean, Sarita.
