later nerdz; it’s about techgnarlogy

It must be easy to rebrand snack food.

My flight took off a little late from San Francisco. I was surrounded by children, for whom I had found new affection. Typically, I would consider being surrounded by children on a plane a red flag for a horrible flight. This time, I found myself cheerfully happy with them when they noticed me and surprisingly un-annoyed when they cried. I wondered why so many children were flying to Atlanta from San Francisco. I guessed the families were beating Thanksgiving Day traffic but that was a weak hypothesis. It was probably just my lucky day.

In Atlanta my flight was delayed. This didn’t seem like too bad of a situation until I realized all of the rental car places would be closed. I paced around the crowded concourse weighing my need to stake a claim to a power outlet with my need to urinate. While squatting at a power outlet, a guy came over and awkwardly stretched a power cord across the isle. He seemed to identify with me as a college student and asked where I went to school. He seemed eager to mention he was coming back from Miami after a medical school interview. He did things like make sweeping generalizations and start his sentences with “I don’t assume to know, but…”. He had what I like to call “condescending nerd syndrome”. He can talk about, or segway out of, anything you bring up to either a very poorly constructed opinion based on crappy generalizations or something about himself. I wondered if I was like him at all, completely self absorbed. I guess that is the point of this writing. At least no one has to talk to me. They only have to witness it in the way that I dress, carry myself, smirk, nod, page through the new yorker, handle my cash, use my iphone, write on this miniature laptop that no one has seen before and smile to myself at all the cute things midwesterners and southerners do.

Of course he was seated next to me on the plane. Everything he did, from the way he complained, without empathy, to me about “people who bring too many carry-ons and hold up the deplaning” to the way he addressed the flight attendant, made me want to kill him. We were in the emergency exit row and I wanted a small emergency to happen just so that I could watch him freak out like a child, like I knew he would.

Because my flight was delayed for two hours, the rental car services were closed in Dayton. I had to get a cab reservation. I am still worried they won’t pick me up. Laurens parents house is in a gated community. I’m afraid they won’t wait for me to come to the gate. A taxi drivers job is incredibly simple. I imagine all of their energy goes into finding point A and point B. What goes in between is not important, it’s just driving. My great grandmother drove until she passed away in here 90s, but she didn’t know where she was going or where she was. Surprisingly, many taxi drivers are unable to achieve the most strenuous part of their job, finding point A or B. So I am worried. In a town where rental cars cannot be found, and taxis are something from “the big city” will my taxi driver be able to find me? I sure hope so because $90.00 is a lot of money. Of course a dispatcher called me for directions in the morning in a thick southern accent which did not exactly quell my fears. I snapped at him with my A-to-B bit and he hung up on me.

I am in the Atlanta airport. I am in the bathroom, surrounded by the noisy expulsion of semi-solid shit. The sounds give the sense that this was a stop at the bathroom for a high purpose and these guys are getting their money’s worth. I am writing as my legs go numb. I am a pretentious jerk from San Francisco who loves exotic beers, dressing up, talking about current events and politics. Do not talk to me about football. I’ve distributed my books and magazines, jacket and bag, around this stall. This is my new office and the sounds are the birds outside my window. From my new cubical I can see the people on the otherside of the door in the reflection on the floor. I imagine one of my neighbors may hear my keyboard tapping and wonder to himself “Wow, someone is working their ass off.” Just like my office at home, I am sitting pantsless and hoping to myself that this will be the off-brand activity of mine that will surface an untapped reservoir of talent and transform hidden potential into a new career.

Barack Obama won the election mostly because he was able to transfer his own leadership into many other people and empower them. He declared a clear goal and clear communication from the top down about why it was important and why everyone should help. Then he empowered people to do more than simply say “I agree.”

There was a lot more to it than everyone rising up. A lot of people had to go back down. From executives to designers, some people did not work at the strategic level they were used to. I suppose some people rose up over their repressive egos to do manual labor when the collective goal called for it.

I just wonder what everyone is going to do now that they’ve been empowered like this. Will everyone be able to stomach the fact that not everyone can rise up and become #1? Will this reinforce the narcissism and entitlement already plaguing my generation of 20-somethings? Will the next campaign just be a clusterfuck of self-interest?

Probably not. The thing about this campaign was that many of us willingly laid down our individual banners in the name of this one. We organized together against problems that seemed so interconnected and large that only a large movement such as Obamas could solve it.

The thing is now that we’ve started, what is next? I have found myself asking this question over and over. Can we hold this together? We need a new monster to slay that looks as big and bad and that is something that could come from many places and in many forms. Let’s hope it’s an honest one.

Please chime in with comments.