safe

Last week I bought a safe. Been meaning to buy one for years. Ever since I got to LA in fact. This is earthquake country. Mudslide country. Wildfire country. I come from a safe country, where there is not too much nature actually capable of endangering the vital papers of life. And we have houses of stone built for eternity. A whole different sense of security in that one. But here, I always wanted to pack the important things in a box so they'd be safe in case something comes along. I'd have them handy, organized. Finally, an ad brought an ominous black box into my field of vision. 40 dollars for a home safe, securing the valuables for 30 minutes in a fire, and waterproof.
So I hauled it up the long walkway to our house. It's really heavy. Inside the heavy box with a top door is a shoe-box size space that fits legal size hanging file folders - if only it hadn't warped in the middle. Made in China. 40 Dollars don't get you something worthy of German engineering. So the folders actually only fit at the very front and very back. The middle space is for diagonal filing. My German papers work there, they are too long for the folders (German legal size paper is called Din a 4. Its skinnier and longer.) I can make it work, put my life's papers in there. But now I don't know if I want to. I kept the packaging box and still am ready to return it. Do I really need a safe? Is it not just sitting there, taking up space? Don't I have most of my important stuff online?
There's the passport, the birth certificate, the Master's certificate. Tax returns. Insurance papers. Stuff you could get back, but it would save time if you didn't have to. I don't understand why I am so undecided about this. Old, deep-seated anxieties. Am I just too free a spirit for a safe? What seemed to be a reasonable, sensible thing to do turns out to be an enigma now that I did it.
I am confused. I should probably put some other things in there they want you to have prepared, just in case. A battery-less torch light. A little cash. An emergency radio. Then I should buy some gallons of water. And canned food, stash it safely. So we are prepared. The "big one" is always coming.
I dread all this because I always hated to be prepared for life's surprises. That was for losers, Spiesser, for squares. As far as I was concerned: To hell with retirement savings, life insurances, owning real estate. No way to live. It's all about the moment. I should have known. The safe. A manifestation of middle-class anxiety staring at me. A manifestation of my growing older, away from those rebellious youth ideas of freedom from what my parents valued.
Calm down. It's just a box to make things easier. To be efficient. Just in case.

I wish to Say Video

Here's a little movie I made about my friend Sheryl's art project. If you want to know more: www.iwishtosay.org

June Gloom

Nature works, in its own ways in L.A. June is the month under a cloud of gray, as the ocean warms up, the marine layer envelops the city in some London type gloom. I am surprised to find I enjoy it. When most of your days are sunny and golden, rain and gray skies become the exception you can enjoy. I like that about L.A., things get turned around, have the opposite meaning from before, it's its own planet.
The gray skies seem to put some sense into people and make them take care of business - that marijuana loop-hole just got stuffed, the city council decided that 600 dispensaries are enough, no more emergency exceptions. The sky stays gray. This year particularly persistent. The ekkonomik outlook seems to even affect the weather in California.
It doesn't seem to put too much sense into me. I should be looking for new endeavors all the while spending my days at my desk examining my past, looking back to find the trail that brought me here and write about it. It is a lot of work, but when, after a lot of bad stuff, some pieces of the puzzle fall in place and you actually have the words to capture them, it feels really good. I enjoy to write.
Last week I read a short story about DALLAS, the 80s tv series, and how it changed my life at an event called "Spark". It's a monthly date in small theater in Santa Monica where 7 people read their true life stories about one topic to an audience of dedicated listeners. I went in May because my friend DJ talked about his tattoo (here's DJ's website, he just published his first book, so I'm sure he appreciates it: www.djameseldon.com). It was a great evening, filled with stories about the body. I was surprised to be so engaged in the act of listening, of sharing people's life stories, about cancer and aneurysms, body image obsession and obesity. So simple and yet so intense, the act of telling a story and listening to it live. Much better than TV. When I saw that the next night in June would be about "80s tv series" I immediately thought of DALLAS, the show that became a big bonding experience with my mother - and made me long for the US. It was the 80s, I was 15, what did I know about the ridiculousness of shoulder pads? They liked the idea so I got the spot. It was a beautiful experience to share the stage with six gifted writers and have an audience listen to you. Exciting and encouraging, a whole new way of connecting with the world. No twitter involved.
I guess that is what the gray skies are about, giving you a chance to look inside, not get distracted by the sunshine, that so eternally entices you. Steel your resolve when the sun comes back, because you've had the time to connect and find your story.