Human Doing vs Human Being

Recently, a friend on FaceBook posted a video I just had to share. The video is powerful and moving—filled with inspirational footage, compiled from Director, Actor and Editor Zapatou. This video reminds us all that the world is much more than our little corner of it. It's more than social media Apps, video games and computer screens. 

Life is for the living. It's about running on the beach, playing in the snow, and marveling at this beautiful, fragile and awe-inspiring planet and all the fascinating people we share it with.

The video is bursting with incredible people, in breath-taking places doing remarkable things. It's full of humans doing, not just being. 

Lets join them.

CLICK HERE.

Why even go?

This must be what it's like to get old(er). TV commercials seem sillier and sillier as they obviously appeal to an ever-increasingly immature mindset. I'm reminded of a recent ad I watched featuring four clearly NOT athletic looking young men (one particularly obese) jump from scenario to action-packed scenario shooting unseen enemies and blowing up soviet helicopters with shoulder-mounted RPGs. 

In Las Vegas, no less. You know, where MANY soviet attack helicopters often terrorize people on a regular basis. 

One scene even has these bozos shooting automatic rifles at, again, unseen adversaries in orbit wearing space suits (spoiler alert! machine guns don't work in zero gravity). Soon the video game that sponsors this mini excursion into insanity flashes its Ritalin-deprived message of 'buy now!' All three of my teenage boys shout "yes" and pump fists into the air and high-five one another. Really?  

But I digress. 

As if to amplify my current state of cultural malaise, I remember a recent experience at my local cineplex. At the screening, three burly (and I'm being kind) middle-aged dudes spent the entire 15-minute trailer segment before the start f the film  telling each other–in regular voices–which movies they thought were 'dumb', 'stupid' or 'awesome'. Who does that? You know we can hear you, right? Thankfully, these three rotund connoisseurs of film avant garde simmered down by show time. 

Then the characters in the audience really show their colors. 

Half-way through the movie another mid-40's fellow movie-goer decided it was time to eat some cellophane-packed sugary treats that took what seemed like a week to open and pound through. The entire process was louder than the movie. How? How is it he doesn't think the rest of us can't hear this, let alone won't mind? 

Then there is the uh… 'portly' gentleman, who comes in late, sits in the front row and immediately falls asleep—snoring at full volume. Mind you, this is a 10 am film on a Sunday morning. We've all nodded off during a flick in our time, but wow. If you were that tired, maybe sitting in a dark room with comfy seats with a room full of strangers isn't the best game-plan for the morning. Why did he even leave home? Why did either this guy or his sweet-toothed, sugar-addicted co-movie-ruiner even come? 

Then I remember even more infractions. People, mostly women (sorry ladies)  who sit at half-court at NBA games texting and not even watching the event. Watch ANY NBA game for more than 6 minutes… you'll see them. Or concert goers who sit while everyone else stands, seemingly bored to tears. I've even been to school plays where parents are so busy texting and chatting they miss their own kid's performance. 

We have become so distracted, so overcome with the need to be stimulated, we can't even enjoy events MEANT to stimulate and entertain us. To me it's like going to a museum just to buy a pack a gum at the gift shop. Why even go? 

I'd love to hear other instances of distracted indifference, but I would imagine none of my readers ever make it this far into the blog.  Probably got some tweets to read or something. 

Nuff' said. Heading back to the corner… 

The Great Escape

So there I was, fighting this zombie horde, summoning my allies and rallying my troops to my Japanese Samurai (see Samurai vs. Zombies) when suddenly, I heard the microwave go 'ding!' I paused my war on the undead and jogged into the kitchen to chastise one of my sons for prepping some hot cheesy snack product so close to dinner. Is he nuts? That's like, a billion extra carbs and stuff, not to mention that there are other predatory teenage consumers in my humble palace who are likely to try the same thing. One must be firm and clear when speaking with teenagers. One must be cautious. 

I then notice one of the other boys was in the living room, controller in hand, laying waste to a whole mob of bad guys in his video game–complete with graphically intense head-shots and stealth kills. Is this happening because all chores have also been conquered? Clearly, homework is done, dishes are spotless and the laundry I'm sure has NEVER smelt better (sniiiiffffff—ahhhh). Nope. 

It is then that I transform from fun Gamer-Dad to the world-destroying Darth Vader in like .0078 seconds (yes I counted).  Like Lucas' infamous intergalactic tyrant, I'm wind-sprinting through the narrow halls of my apartment, force-choking* insolent, lazy teens in every nook and cranny of my home-base as I utter in my best James Earl Jones impersonation "I have you now".

I soon gain the upper hand and the tattered remnants of this little rebel alliance that sprung up in my living room are vanquished. Demoralized. Defeated. 

Crushed.

I smile victoriously, deviously. "Today will be a day long remembered," I say coyly to a room full of sobbing teens, "it has seen the end of cheesy snacking, it will soon see the end of your defiant little alliance." Finally, with the routing of the rebels, I can return to my dark pursuits. Namely the beheading of countless Japanese Zombies and undead warriors. 

Then, just for a moment, I think to myself, 'what are you doing dude?' This gaming... this is greasy kids stuff. Grow the f**k up already and do something constructive and hammer or paint something, go buy some mundane stuff like soap, batteries or Brussel sprouts. Go wash your car or make sure the porch is swept or… something.

Then I come to my senses.  

I work all week long–I help kids do homework, cook, clean, make sure everyone has the food, money, resources and all the help and support they need to succeed. What the hell do I want to do any of that other crap for? Those things will get done. They ALWAYS get done. I then remind myself of all those people who spend their weekends–and their lives–doing stuff even THEY don't want to do. I just can't be that guy. I work hard so I can PLAY hard. Life is hard enough without having an outlet. 

So, satisfied that  an appropriate dinner is on the stove, chores are done and the rebel uprising has been crushed, I again hit the pause button and I return to my game–reassured I am doing EXACTLY what I should be doing. Here comes the next horde. Better bring my 'A' game, too. After all, those Zombies aren't going to kill themselves. 

*This is a dramatization. No children were ACTUALLY harmed during the writing of these events. Though a couple of them did come dangerously close a well-deserved swat.