Friday, January 6, 2012


"Are you open?"
"Yes. But I have to change over. It's a new day."
-January 1, 2012 12:05 am
cashier at this amazing store we found - it has everything and is open 24 hours, even on holidays

     And a New Year. But not just like that - it is that it has been a year at that moment, the moment chosen to bookend and celebrate a slab of time: 5,4,3,2,1.... that was a year. Each one is broken off as uniformly as possible, with daylight savings and leap years in place as regulators yet there is always a slight indentation or smear off the back.

     This nod of recognition to 365 days is the scripted wink of an actor; smiles cued to shutter speeds capture the evidence of a dress rehearsal. A particular small-talk-special (once-a-year only!) infolds all conversations: what "kind of year" did it feel like, short or long? Such is pretty damn obtuse for small talk fodder and the only time solipsism is invited to the party - like dream sequences and if you like gum or not, the information is completely worthless to others.

     Consider an agreement in kind. It is not analogous to agreeing on the weather. One's experience of time is the epitome of subjectivity. In turn, the idea of a stimulating debate on time perception is hilarious in it's absurdity. I guess this makes the topic a paragon of small talk. It is simply an agreement to engage, the tacit offering of an empty vessel served in the name of social graces or (to give it much credit) an invitation suggesting potential. No thoughtful response necessary; this one is all call.

Feedback of time either smacks you in the face or doesn't yet everyone seems to choose a side in pleasantries. I have never heard anyone state "it felt like a year" but I have also never been to an Asbergers ball or inside a Miranda July movie.* The consensus usually is that "the year went by so fast". This makes sense, especially as we age and each year becomes a smaller and smaller fraction of the whole. Nothing good can follow "it was a long year..." but that is in framing. Each determination can be both positive and negative.

An ineffable fave....

...conclusion pitched aggressively to the void.

*No dig to those with Asbergers syndrome. They probably somehow know the correct answer here.