Published at: 12:01 pm - Tuesday January 26 2010
It is through pain that we begin to learn who we really are, and what direction our interests take us when the mighty assailant of discomfort and fear pushes us.
Our society (which is a vague word I hate using) is hell bent on comfort and luxury. How many advertisements do you see, watch, or look at that is promoting a product in such a way that it becomes a symbol? Most high-dollar advertisements are these days. Look at the ever-present car commercial: Are they trying to sell a product or an idea? Do they simply rave on about its technical specifications while a picturesque background or an ocean’s waves are breaking behind it, to compliment the product?
No. I haven’t seen one since I was born. The modern car commercial injects the viewer into a digitized set and appeals to their emotions. In those short 30 seconds, they conjure a story involving you, that car and your life. They are hoping to create once again—as the media is so wonderful at doing this—a fantasy in the viewer’s mind with low-fidelity music, fuzzy flickering images and formulaic scenes. To anyone that isn’t mesmerized by the constant mind numbing drone of the TV, the method of delivery (TV is a low quality medium) is terrible. Advertisers know this.
Therefore, modern advertising doesn’t use the product as the vehicle to sell—they use something we all want: a better life. Whatever this ‘better life’ may be is entirely subjective to the viewer. But since we all operate on emotions, they use scenes that are highly suggestive to cut through the specificity of our personal desires.
The car was only an example of course. Advertisements are not all created equally. Other products’ methods in advertisement vary greatly. The car is a symbol of production and social status, and sadly, individuals are too often judged by what they drive instead of who they are. So, commercials will reflect what that product means to us. Car commercials may be a little more ‘sophisticated’ while car insurance commercials are usually light hearted or playing on the idiots of the populace. Some commercials use self-deprecating humor to poke fun at something that makes us uncomfortable—making a risky decision about our future; awkward social moments; embarrassment, etc.
Last night, I layered up for a cold ride. I had had a few tasty brews and the idea of haunting the neighborhood on my bike with some good music sounded great. I headed in the usual direction, west, toward Santa Clara. This is where most of my solo rides go. I go to Santa Clara and Ivins for the memories I have as riding my bike as a kid. The air was a bit humid and the night colder as a result.
As my ride was at its halfway point, my feet were gradually becoming numb. This always happens to me and is a big detriment to all of my winter rides. Instead of riding home to a warm apartment, I stayed outside. As I rode to a school I had once attended, the thought of pain and fear changing the perspectives of people became the theme for me that night.
The pain from the lack of blood to my feet was getting apparent at every pedal. I wanted to get warm, but not get home. At the school, I walked up a little hill in the schoolyard and sat at the top in a thick patch of dry lawn clippings. Immediately, I could feel my own body heat being captured by the insulation of the dead grass. It felt great actually. From this little hill, I had a great vantage point to the suburbs. Heated homes lined carefully lit streets.
I wondered how it must be to be homeless: Not having a warm place to go home to. Not having new clothes to express who you think you are or want to be. Not having cheaply produced food at your disposal (and to dispose of in large quantities). How do we, the general public, base so much of our lives on things, and take for granted, the things that others do not have?
To the homeless person, the world of materials in abundance isn’t a new thing; it isn’t an alien concept. I really have no experience in being homeless—for the most part, my American and German life has been as pampered as the rest of us. But I can imagine, there must be great freedom in knowing you cannot lose anything. And what can be lost, will only be forgotten. There must be terrific liberation from all fears in knowing we cannot lose anything because we never really own anything. We gain control by losing control—strange paradox.
It was so apparent in looking at these homes, that pain and fear (apply your own definition here) pushes us to achieve. However, when our system of obtaining comfort and luxuries become so efficient and automatic, complacency is the ultimate goal.
How does this boil down to bicycling? Well, if the car is a symbol, if the TV is a symbol, if the home is a symbol, if the guns we shoot are symbols, if everything we put a lot of time, effort and love into are symbols, then the bicycle must be one hell of a symbol…
Everything we experience and value as individuals is subjective. To others, the bike is an exercise machine, or a way to get out of the house every now and then. Maybe, it is to explore the neighborhood, or cut down on limited-resources consumption and commute to work. To some, it is a Christmas gift for children, only to be left outside to rust a year later when something new entertains them. It may be an occupation, a passion, or just another feature of our lives we never think about. Whatever it is to you, is valid.
Next time you are doing something you enjoy, think about why you love doing it. Don’t let something as shallow as an advertisement or someone’s pressing beliefs define it for you.
As always, enjoy your rides—through heat, through cold, through snow, through rain, because after all, it is through pain and discomfort that we really learn who we are, and why we are doing it.
–Dominik.
