Representing my coffee-snob bona fides with a cup of hand ground, bird friendly, organic fair-trade cup of joe. Although I’m more of a one-cup guy, I think Saturday morning demands a second, enjoy the cool morning because this bitch will be over 100 today.
Wake and bake, baby! What a perfect way to start a beautiful fall morning—cheeba, java, and the opportunity to write rather than deal with other peoples’ money.
Yes, a second cup is required. I was asleep by nine last night, woke up at 0430 but managed to score a couple of hours of the in-and-out struggle (not the fun kind) and finally surrendered to the futility of trying to sleep in. After some initial stumbling, grumbling and pissing, I finally found my groove after sipping on that hot black bitter nectar of the gods.
My car is still packed for camping, waiting for a benefactor to fund more overnights in the mountains. Unfortunately, there’s bills to pay and as much as I’d like to get out almost every weekend, it’s just not in my budget. It’s a hobby I’m too poor to indulge on the regular. How do those Tik Tok and IG brats do those exotic vacays, how did “influencer” become a thing? Maybe I should make an “old stoner dude does things” Youtube channel for the sheer income potential. Then, I’m on my way to Bali in my flip flops and cargo shorts, making videos of myself sipping scotch and smoking cigars on the veranda of a room that has the Influencer Special view.
If we’re young, beautiful, trust funded and lacking even a modicum of self-awareness, we too can be travel influencers! We can video ourselves annoying the fuck out of the locals who inhabit our cute little destination country and make six figures doing it! There’s an infinite money pile just waiting for us to grab armloads of cash by just being an insufferable twat with a great tan on the internet.
Maybe “old stoner dude doing things” isn’t such a bad idea after all but I think it would be a limited series and seriously lacking real entertainment value—I can be a funny guy but I’m no standup comedian—but maybe being pointless and unfunny is the whole point of the influencer ecosystem. The only thing that stands in the way is the realization that it would be a monumental waste of time.
At least with writing (this blog, journaling, my fiction), the result is purged demons and stories told, with no desire to be an influencer fat with follower funding. It’s not that I’d turn down an influencer income—it would be nice to go camping again—but the burden to entertain would be too much. At least with writing there is built-in entertainment for at least me so it’s cool when others are also entertained and engaged with what I’m saying.
And that’s good enough.