connection and communion
today is remembrance day in australia. we honour the war dead at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month. or so most of the country did. I was busy cleaning out the old cafe kitchen, a task I’d been uncharacteristically putting off til the very last day. and I’m not entirely sure just why.
perhaps it’s because the first two fooderies came to a somewhat sudden halt, differing disputes over lease terms that resulted in hurried decisions. but it’s been nearly four months since we closed the door on this one, and as I still had the house lease, it’s lingered there, like a ghostly mausoleum that I would wander thru from time to time, listening for echoes of the past, remembering the good days, the bad days, the stress, the laughter, the uncertainty, the music.
at the end of the day today I sat in the dining room and reflected. it’s hard to say exactly why this one didn’t work. we knew it was to be a huge risk, understood the history and shortcomings of the site and location. we didn’t of course foresee the bottom end dropping out of the world economy as we readied to open. nor did we know the sorry state the building and equipment were in. but even when I look at clear facts, I feel as if I’m making excuses.
perhaps deep down I didn’t want to commit so wholeheartedly. perhaps my former partner and I were a bad fit for a team. I’m sure she would have done better with someone else in the kitchen and vice-versa for myself. maybe I just wanted it to happen so badly that when it became more of a struggle than anyone anticipated, my drive slipped away. maybe something else was ahead on the horizon, yet I had no tangible idea.
I’ve interrupted my usual dinnertime activity to put these thoughts into text. some watch tv or read the newspapers while eating. I read online. blogs, forums, social networking sites. this becomes my glimpse into the world of others on an almost daily basis. I find that’s when I turn on the chat facility in facebook, not that I want to chat with someone or the opposite. in fact, I usually don’t. it’s just a glance at who’s online, who’s available for contact or contacting others.
it reminds me of the halcyon days of the net, just over a decade ago when aol instant messenger was the only such service, aside from icq (does that even exist anymore?) or irc. you could add someone if you knew their screen name without their approval or even knowledge. I’d been told the screen name of joey ramone, added it and was always a little bemused when I’d hear the creak of the opening door sfx that aol used, and saw heynojoe appear. I’d try to imagine this guy that I admired, the godfather of new york punk, sitting in front of his computer screen with a mouse and keyboard. it seemed so surreal.
so it’s nice to know that some of you are out there. if I see you online, I don’t need to ask how you are. I know that you have enough money to afford a computer/iphone, connection etc, and that you’re well enough to be using it, either with a roof over your head, or somewhere safe. I know you’re okay, in a fundamental sense. and that’s fine.