Nomadic Identity Crisis

Two weeks rarely pass with the haste of these past two. March 16 I found myself in Camden, the live music and punk rock London neighborhood. March 21st I awoke in Monmarte, a popular destination for writers and artists. March 24th a 747 brought me in to Denver International airport. March 25th I walked from Los Angeles International airport to my Uncle's apartment which sits 1 block away from the Pacific.

Seemingly, I could count myself fortunate. London, Paris, Colorado, Manhattan Beach are all places that legions of people spend insane amounts of money to visit. At 26, I'm hitting all of those places in 2 weeks.

Running south on the beach this breezy morning it occurred to me how vastly different the culture of each of these places are. London has a New York City feel to it. Extremely fast paced, everyone dressed to the nines in suits or the latest trendy metro sexual fad, stern looks on their faces, polite but unfriendly demeanor. Paris had couples everywhere. It really is the city of love. Very trendy like London, but a bit more laid back. Everything was expensive, even average tasting meals and wine. The people were more friendly than in London. Manhattan Beach is an 180 degree difference, assuming the scale is a wealthy scale. Everyone is adorned in trendy beach wear. The girls in matching jogging suits, beach skirts, or bathing suits. They are all wearing similar big lens sunglasses. The dudes are all in surf gear, tshirts, sunglasses, and flip flops.

All three of these cultures are trendy in different ways. It must be expensive to keep up the trends. I know this sounds like criticism, and maybe it is, but it is merely an observation. And who am I to judge? My clothing style has adapted to whatever culture I find myself in. One thing that I am realizing is that I don't tend to identify with this kind of wealth. My dad did work in the oil industry for my whole life and I've always had everything I've needed. I did go to a private university and have vacationed in warm climates. Still, my family seemed to live a bit more of a meager lifestyle. My dad was raised in a blue collar family and my mom was raised on a teacher's salary. I identify much better with that culture. The middle class.

I sure as hell don't identify with the poor, as much as my idealistic college self would like to believe I did. I enjoy doing expensive things. Skiing, traveling, drinking wine, going to ballgames are all things that cost money. I enjoy clean bathrooms with nice soaps. I'd gladly pay over 100 bucks for Radiohead tickets. I can't wait to buy new skis even though mine are in fine condition. I'd rather go to Rico's and pay at least a dollar fifty more for coffee than at Pike's Perk or Starbucks because I like the ambiance and the coffee tastes better. I'd never go to a fast food restaurant because of a cheap value menu.

Maybe I understand the colorado springs briargate culture because thats where I became an adult. Thats how I hope to live. I don't need a big house, but I'd like a decent sized one. I'd like my kids to have their own rooms. I'd like to be able to pick up the check most of the time without being stressed about my budget. I don't need a top of the line car, but I'd rather own one thats close to being new.

I use to think it was wrong to desire these things, but I'm starting to think that critics of those desires can piss off. Most agree that we need to have a certain amount of money to survive. The gray area is "how much is too much." Is there too much? John and I had this conversation in England. Some would say middle class is too much. Some would say upper class is too much. Who is right?