Returning to life in Lincoln. Here's what's happening in my sector of the woods.

Football Fascism

I don't think it's possible for anyone who hasn't been to this town to understand the depth of the idiocy that happens in regard to mere college football games. Even the activity surrounding high school games gets kooky. (As I learned for the first time Friday night when a crowd of sign-waving nincompoops occupied the sidewalk in front of the station. At first, I wondered whether they were protesting the gas prices, or the handling of New Orleans, or... something of substance. Nope. They were there to show support for the high school team while the bus went by. Crazy.)

Today was the first Husker game of the season. Yesterday, the manager informed us that on game day, employees had the option of wearing "any red shirt" to work in lieu of our usual work shirts bearing the BP logo. Since I do happen to own a plain red t-shirt, I thought about wearing it, but ultimately decided against it, and instead opted to show up in my usual outfit. This, because of the assumed association wearing red would imply. (I also wanted to minimize the potential for game score harrassment. At least if I wasn't wearing red, I could claim indifference with a higher degree of apparent credibility.)

Alas, when I arrived today, I would find out that even the female coworker who once acted as my ally in baseball indifference, is, unfortunately, a Husker fan. The alien "Big Red" mind-control sickness proved all-pervasive. I was alone.

Luckily, in this case, she decided to leave work early. Being the sole employee on duty from 18:00 onward (which just happened to be the time the thing would start), I had undisputed control of the radio. I contemplated keeping it on one of the normal rock/pop stations; they have some decent music, but I've frankly become sick of the nauseatingly repetitive playlists. So, KZUM it was. Classic blues. Not normally my thing, but in addition to the opportunity to broaden my musical horizons, the total lack of obnoxious commercials has strong appeal.

I lost count of the number of customers who walked in, and muttered, as if in disbelief. "You don't have the game on?" Um, No.

Or even better: "Don't you have a radio in here?" Yes dumbass, and it's turned on right now, or are you deaf?

"You have to work during the game? How'd you end up getting stuck with that shift?" (Indeed, some of them seemed to be having a moment of genuine pity.) Yes, I'm working during "the game", and I'm feeling fine and dandy about it. The only thing that sucks is the constant stream of idiots under the delusion that everybody shares their peculiar brand of lunacy.

A variation on the deafness theme. Upon walking in, customer immediately gasps, "You don't have the game on?"

"No."

Customer then wanders around the store briefly, picks up a few items, and comes to the counter. "You don't have the game on?" Deja vu, except this time, it sounded more emphatic.

"Um, no. Don't have the game on."

"Well why not?"

"Don't care about it. Doesn't matter to me." (A statement which is actually starting to become less true with time. Remaining truly neutral is difficult in the face of such a barrage, and if it continues, and I'm not careful, I may reach the point of actively hating the Huskers and everything associated with them. That's a state I'd rather not reach; to paraphrase Metallica, they aren't worth wasting my hate on.)

Upon my open expression of indifference, the man turned back into a human being, and said. "Oh, ok. I can understand that. There are some things I don't care about or follow, like baseball and basketball." He went on to ask what some of my interests are, so off the top of my head, I told him I like computer programming and biking, which he thought was cool.

"Well, I hope you have a nice evening."

"Thanks, you too."

So... Husker fans. Not the epitome of evil, but definitely kooky. I'm guessing there will be a lot more of the same in the coming months, so if I'm going to keep working this job (or in this town, period), I'd better learn to deal with it.

Since business was actually a fair bit slower than usual for much of the evening, I had some opportunity to actively listen to the radio program that was on. The DJ was playing a progression of black music from the 20's through the 60's, with sexually suggestive themes (he tagged it "Banned by the FCC", in honor of the Janet Jackson incident).

The DJ dedicated one song with a definite 40's feel and female vocalist to late Senator Strom Thurmond (staunch supporter of segregation, later discovered to be father of a black child). The piece was entitled, "You can't tell the difference after dark." Yowch!

Regardless of the genre, a program like this reveals just how dismal most radio stations are nowadays by simply showing what can be done. Rather than a list of 30 songs repeated in random order, 24/7, it's an actual program, during which somebody chooses a variety of songs (centered around a specific theme) ordered and narrated with conscious cohesion. It's not just about what music is playing. It's about how they go about playing it.

At one point, he mentioned that KZUM is looking for volunteers to do some sort of "guerilla marketing" projects. It sounded wacky enough that I'm tempted to call them to try to find out more, though with a growing amount other stuff in the works, I don't want to over-extend myself. (More on that momentarily.) I figure that any station willing to play Amy Goodman is worth getting behind.

...

As it turns out, my permanent Sunday work schedule change will take effect on September 11. That means that tomorrow, I'm still doing my old 11-7 shift, which pretty much precludes attending my newly and tentatively adopted church. But I decided that I definitely do want to take the 3-week Unitarian 101 course on Wednesday nights.

Since I won't be there to sign up Sunday, I made several attempts during the week to contact the person organizing the class. This morning, my attempt finally succeeded. She answered the phone, and agreed to add me to the list. So anyway, starting next Wednesday night, I'll be learning the basics of Unitarianism, meeting some other newcomers, and hopefully having a fun time with it all.

Schedule-wise, it also gells nicely with my Open Harvest volunteer hours, because I'll have plenty of time during the bike ride from the natural cooperative grocer to the pseudo-church class to dawdle, drink coffee with coworkers, take detours, read in the park, or whatever. Dawdling is good. Leisure is good. Life is good.

(Also, since this particular class is only 3 weeks in duration, it conveniently ends the week before the next Megafest, so I won't miss anything. It almost works out too nicely.)

...

Last Thursday, at the Jewel Heart group, after we watched Little Buddha, I had the opportunity to talk to M[a] again, and asked a question that might better have been asked 3 months ago. But better late than never.

I asked her if she knew whether Lincoln has any community gardening projects that might be looking for volunteers. It is a skill at which I really have no experience or training whatsoever, but would like to learn. (Whether the Crash is imminent or not, I feel the need to lower my alienation.) At this point, I'm not at the point of being ready to get my own land, as more ambitious souls have done. While the idea of guerilla urban gardening (i.e. plant squatting) has a certain charm, the extra logistical challenges it would add on top of my newbieness seem like a recipe for defeat. But community gardening, if it exists in Lincoln...

If anyone would know, M[a] would. She readily replied that yes, Lincoln has at least two or three such gardens, and she was sure they would be happy to have more help. (The fall season is perfect for composting and cleanup. While not glamorous work, I'm sure I'd still learn something, and when next season comes around, I'd be on the inside track from the get-go.) She gave me the number (from memory) of the person to contact, who also happens to be heavily involved in Open Harvest affairs. Small world, sort of. (During my time at Open Harvest, I have not yet, to my knowledge, run into this person.)

So anyway, now I have that number too. I haven't called it yet. I'll probably do so on Monday. If they ask me when would be the best day/time for me to help out, I'm still contemplating what to say. I'll figure it out though.

Anyway, that's what's happening. I ingested what I thought was a small amount of caffeine (in the form of a half-filled cup of coffee) during my shift today. It seems to be keeping me awake and alert far longer than I anticipated. It might also partially explain the more-verbose-than-usual-as-of-late quality of this rambling.

I'm going to turn down the blues a bit and relax my mind. (Yes, I found them so interesting that I turned on the radio when I got home.) After all, I do need to be back at work again, in.... roughly 8 hours from now. Gotta keep the bills paid. (Speaking of which, I need to remember to give Yanthor that September check. I keep forgetting during the times when I see him, and remembering when I don't.)

[Yawn. Zzzzz time.]