Life In The Bubble

My father once got lost in an IKEA, though he’d probably vehemently deny it if you asked him. Round and round he went, somehow skipping the stairs down into the Marketplace and looping instead through the restaurant to end up back where he started. You know what I’m talking about – every IKEA is the same. In fact, the IKEA in East Palo Alto is a disturbingly exact replica of the IKEA in Coquitlam, perhaps to prevent the kind of panic attacks that a sealed biosphere populated by particle board furniture and umlauts wreaks on the average male. You need the equivalent of a video game walkthrough guide to escape IKEA intact and financially solvent.

I had a bubble moment of my own last Friday while attending Shrek 2. In the stolen moments (stolen by the movie execs, not me, you can be sure) between the lights dimming and the start of the main feature, something struck me. I realized that every movie being advertised had been produced within the state of California. Pixar had an ad for its new movie – they’re in Emeryville, about an hour away. Disney and a few other Hollywood studios had their latest offerings on display – a mere five-hour drive away.

And, of course, the main feature itself was a cultural ouroboros, with numerous allusions to popular culture, most of which originated in some form or another in either LA or Hollywood. Weird.

Everywhere you look, there’s a reference to California in one form or another – it’s all-encompassing, but until you’re here you don’t really realize the origin of just about everything is Californian in one sense or another. When we first arrived, people asked how I was adjusting to life in the valley – I responded it hadn’t been much of a transition at all. After all, which magazines do I read? Which websites do I monitor regularly? Which inventors had I grown up admiring? A lot of them were located here in Silicon Valley. Not much of a cultural shock, when you think about it.

However, it’s not all 3D-animated ogres and pre-pubescent Internet multi-millionaires. While the importance and creativity of California can not be questioned (especially given it’s the eighth largest economy in the world), there are downsides to being in the Center Of The Universe. For one thing, the TV news is decidedly inward focused – I’d be hard-pressed to remember seeing an international story (beyond Iraq, which doesn’t count) since I arrived. I can’t blame California – when you’re the center of the universe, why do you care about what’s going in the outside world?

Well, I care. And that’s something I need to keep reminding myself about so I don’t get star-struck and forget about the rest of the world.

Now We Are 29

I was sitting at my desk yesterday, iTunes loaded, headphones cranked to eleven to drown out the hum of the fluorescent lighting in the office. Eardrum shredding distorted guitar riffs and non-sensical lyrical waxing by depressed British teenagers I can stand – imperceptible, monotonic, 60Hz electrical humming, on the other hand, drives me completely bonkers. Whoever invented fluorescent lights should be put on trial for crimes against every student who has valiantly struggled to get any work done at the college library, forgoing the giddy pleasures of alcohol abuse and casual sex that give “higher education” its name, only to be stymied by the low Lucasian drone of these cheap lightsaber impersonators. The students get first dibs on the guy – followed shortly by all the mothers who warned us against the dangers of reading under poor lighting conditions.

Wait…where was I going with this? Oh yes, I was talking about loud music.

After having the entire spectrum of the pentatonic scale rammed into my cerebral cortex by Eric Clapton’s tribute to blues legend Robert Johnson, I decided forego any further insult to Mr. Johnson and switched to listening to Radiohead instead. It’s funny how the mind works, because I happened upon this little gem in my collection:

In a city of the future
It is difficult to concentrate
Meet the boss, meet the wife
Everybody’s happy
Everyone is made for life

In a city of the future
It is difficult to find a space
I’m too busy to see you
You’re too busy to wait

But I’m okay, how are you?
Thanks for asking, thanks for asking
But I’m okay, how are you?
I hope you’re okay too

Everyone one of those days
When the sky’s California blue
With a beautiful bombshell
I throw myself into my work
I’m too lazy, I’ve been kidding myself for so long

I’m okay, how are you?
Thanks for asking, thanks for asking
But I’m okay, how are you?
I hope you’re okay too

And then I bothered to check the track name. Oh irony of ironies – this song is from the Airbag/How Am I Driving? EP, and has a most appropriate name: Palo Alto.