Why I No Longer Care for Digital Photography, and Will Shortly Delete My Instagram Again

Not too long ago, I decided that it was pretty ridiculous that people held so tenaciously to their love of celluloid film photography when digital photography had reached some very impressive levels of quality. A train of thought ran through my brain earlier, however, that made me realize a number of things that justify the value of anything in the hearts of us people. We grew up loving pictures of ourselves, and they were special because resources were spent to capture an image of us and subsequently help us remember that time. They said "Mom loved me, so she used her expensive film and paid to have it developed so she could see this special moment again," or whatever. They were rare. If you kept a photo, it was because it gave you an emotional reaction. If you threw a photo away, it was therapeutic. A picture was worth a thousand words. Now, everyone has cameras and computers and unlimited space to save pictures of what-the-fuck-ever. Nobody would dream of taking a picture of their spaghetti and Ragu, then sharing it with everyone they know. If someone did, it would be for a damn good reason. People just take pictures because it's what you do. Hell, some people go out to do things just to share some pictures. It's all backwards! Many times, I see a picture someone posted and I build a (probably dramatically false) story behind the picture. Granted, this can sometimes be very entertaining, but I'm not the only person who has come to suspect some pretty inaccurate things about people largely because I still consider the image to hold more meaning than it is supposed to. There's also the devaluing of what you're trying to capture in the first place. I have been to concerts and spent lots of time stressing out and running around trying to frame up the right shots or record an entire concert, only to realize I didn't pay attention to my favorite song. With film, you took a shot or two and hoped for the best and enjoyed your time. The following week, you'd get your pictures back, and have at least one exciting moment when a good picture brought you right back. My Instagram account is full of sixth attempts. It is an open door into everybody else's edited best side during down time at the bar or whatever. It's where everybody shares a picture of what they're listening to, in hopes of reminding other people that they have the same interests. The shit is no longer personal when it's there for everybody. I rarely get any joy from seeing someone repost someone else's picture, and I'm sure it does no one any good when I do it myself. I confess that I only use my Instagram account to advertise that I am enjoyable and to remind whatever girl, at whatever time, that I exist. My Twitter, and possibly every other social network account I have, will probably follow suit. There was a time that I would make that declaration hoping for a reaction, but now I am hoping that it will make sense to other people who will step away from the whole "share myself with the world" thing, and get back to the "call the person you want to meet up with" thing. It infuriates me to try to gain a feeling of validity from how many whomever's clicked "like" on my post. I know I overthink things, or at least that people tell me I overthink things. I express my feelings about things more often, openly and honestly than most people do, and it makes me look weird or whatever, but I think there's a part of everyone that feels a little bummed when She liked His picture, but not mine, or She posted the pic with Him, but not the one with me. Well, if you've ever had that feeling, it can be entirely valid, entirely invalid, or anywhere in between. The picture is no longer worth the words. The story isn't really being told. Almost every picture has been taken several times and doctored for presentability. In the end, I personally feel that I can't place any value in what I see, and there's no reason anyone should value anything I share, so the whole thing entirely lacks value. The reason I am sharing my assessment is that I hope some people will take some valuable pictures, and show them to me because I am special to them.

Hope?

I am strongly inclined to execute a pretty drastic and likely negative, however honest action in hopes that something better will come as a result. When I think about it, the inclination to stick it out and be positive comes to mind. The see-saw of this particular situation is levelling. There can be no perfect balance though. Either story will play out as an honest and manly decision. The question, I suppose, is whether I'd prefer the idea of a girl who has really done a number on me to wind up a friend or a fading memory in the worst case scenario. The positive action would win me the friend, but honestly, I have a bounty of friends I was smitten with, and they all hurt me severely and frequently.

Christmas

I don't know if I'm just venting or reaching out or what, but I'm just stuck in that ol' holiday depression. I love my family dearly, but I can't do this anymore. I think I get lonely around this time of year, when togetherness is the big thing going on. When I'm with the ones I love the most, it really stands out in my mind that I don't have someone special. I'm not someone's special someone. I'm nobody's daddy or boyfriend. I'm an uncle, friend, and bandmate, which are all great, but I'm nobody's world, and I have no world. Believe it or not, I don't usually get to feeling this way. I do write about it when it happens though. I wish people could understand why I'd like to opt out of the holiday celebrations. I wish someone would just say "ok" instead of trying to tell me how much it would mean if I'd be around. Maybe I should retort that it'd mean a lot if they'd respect that this ruins me every year.

Butterflies

I really wish I could convince myself that the feeling in my gut had something to do with my diet. I'd possibly prefer it be sickness over what I know it is. I like a girl, and there are several life conditions that make the situation... less than optimal, I guess? Sometimes I feel like she likes me too, and is as subtle about it as a parade with a fireworks display. Other times, it seems like, at best, my being around doesn't bother her. Unwarranted optimism has been the lurker in the shadows for me forever. I've often said to the kids I babysat "You know better!". I feel like I should listen to my own words. I'm not lonely. I enjoy my alone time. I'm productive on my own. But dammit, I get really happy when she's around. I've been happy anyway, but this is the kind of happy that eats away all the bad feelings, and will never be sated. If emotions traveled in herds, this kind of happy would thin a person's emotions into the strongest, most solid phalanx of a herd imaginable. Do I know better? Something like that would leave tremendous, slow-healing wounds if it ended. I'm pretty learned about that. I'm not known for my ability to bounce back from that kind of thing. I'm running pretty efficiently at the moment, and every time I trust someone with my heart, I put my entire life machine at risk. What am I supposed to do? Be a rock n' roll monk? Am I playing it too safe if I let this one go? If I don't? Does it really matter, as long as I live and learn? I only get to live out my own story, I suppose. What would the audience like? What would make my story a bestseller? I'm going to drown these butterflies.

Important Announcement

I'm really happy with me at the moment, and I think I owe a lot of that to being single. I'm officially raising my standards to a ridiculously high level. Every girl I've dated before has been above and beyond what I felt I deserved or wanted, so I'm mentally constructing a woman of unachievable beauty, intelligence, and badassery, with an ass that is not only bulletproof, but sends incoming missiles into orbit, who won't underestimate the methods of my madness and dump me for someone with a conventional career.

This would be a difficult choice, but I realize that it takes being single for me to be this satisfied with my life. Only perfection will do. The only risk is all the girls who are so damn good at faking it, but usually they go for guys cut from the same cloth.

Inbreeding is gross.

A Need for Society

I was happy sitting at home, doing computer shit, clearing email alerts, and ultimately coming across a number of old messages which quickly sent my brain to places darker than the inside of my skull usually is.

The Reverend Horton Heat is playing tonight, and I'm going. It'll be nice to be around people, as they're a great distraction from the magnetic memories and what-ifs I'm far too inclined to give in to in solitude. I also expect, unfortunately, to end my venture into the public focusing on the fact that the friends, great as they are, will only intensify my want for something deeper and the lack of a girl that sets me on fire.

Thanks, email, for the unneeded dose of pessimism.

Happy Birthday

Said it.

A New and Uncalled-For Bump in the Road

Aaron Freeman is retiring his alter ego, Gene Ween. He recently released an album, which I previewed, and it is great, but I'll never see a full Ween show.

Life has been great lately, and I refuse to let this break my heart, but I am upset about it. Sometimes great things must end.

Goddammit, God...

I just ran over a raccoon on the freeway. I love raccoons. Yeah, maybe it was rabid, and would have bitten a small child tomorrow if it had survived, but I don't know that. If my good karma lets me do a heroic deed, it sure picks a funny fucking way of cashing itself in. At least my brakes worked earlier today when two small children, about 7 and 4 years old ran out in front of my car.

This day was almost entirely good.

Perspective Disrespect?

I was just thinking, which I don't recommend, and it crossed my mind that I've been to restaurants that my friends have told me were the best, and walked away wanting. Usually, these restaurants are very good, sometimes I assume I ordered the wrong thing, but the vast majority of the time I'm simply underwhelmed, probably due to hype.

I started writing this entry several days ago, and decided to reread it and further decide whether to finish or delete it. I'm entirely confused as to why I wrote it and how drunk I must have been. I am entertained by my current state of confusion, and am therefore publishing this entry as is.

New Nephew!!!

My brother John and his lovely wife Jill are now the proud ass parents of this amazingly beautiful little boy, August Noam Hooker!!!

Life Lessons

I suppose you either always or never learn the valuable life lessons at an opportune time. Maybe not "or", but "and"...

I think I learned recently, largely tonight, that you should never let the worst of you get the best of you.

Home, for a Moment

Got a show tomorrow here in Beaumont, then it's off to Austin AGAIN for my brother's wedding. The Wolves will be doing shows in Houston and San Antonio without me, which is good because we always want more exposure, but sucks because I wanna play, and if I can't play, I wanna see Vinc play the bass and Boar Lord, from Diesel and Dixie, sing my songs!

Oh well.

Really, I think what sucks is that the tour, for me, is over and I don't get to relax at home. As soon as I get here, I gotta go to Austin again, which is a constant panic attack for me. My brother is worth it though. It'll be a good time with a lot of family I don't get to see often. Then I get to come home and make some money and play guitar.

At least I'm inclined to find those silver linings people talk about.

Out on Tour

And as would likely be expected, the Universe found a way to test my emotional fortitude. For once, I'm doing pretty well.

We're having a blast.

That is all to report at this particular juncture.

Ka, Like a Wind

Not my most gutwreching Austin trip. I wound up sleeping in the van after cancelling a show that would have been our second of the night. I think we've only cancelled once before, and that's because we had killed 2 vehicles trying to get there. Last night, the traffic was so bad and poorly rerouted that we couldn't get to our venue. Yay, Southby!

I must say, the weather was gorgeous! It must have rained really well for the first time in years. There was green everywhere, and it wasn't too dry.

On the way home, our van died.

We go on tour in a few days, and we start in, wanna guess? Austin!

Pleasant as it was, the crowd was too much for me, and there's always the factor of my really wanting to see someone and being scared to death that I'll see her. I think she tactfully avoids me. We have enough mutual friends that she can easily find something cooler to do, way across town from me. I still wish I knew why things happened as they did...

Anyway, a random friend from Beaumont happened to see us on the side of the road in La Grange. He bought a trailer hitch and towed our trailer back to Beaumont for free, even bought Drew and me some rad BBQ, and wouldn't accept a cent from us. I feel I have the strangest brand of luck.

I still feel like a dick because Vinc and Zach stayed in Austin with the dead van, but they don't have the same damage as I do about that place. I hope they're having fun. I often feel like I ruin their time in Austin because I wear the feeling in my gut on my face.

Dang.

Falling Down the Ladder of Positivity

And hitting every negative ass rung on the way down.

A song I heard last night got me feeling sentimental, and lead to the gamit of emotions including paranoia, sadness, anxiety, anger, and nostalgia.

I'm about to be in Austin twice within the next few days, and I've done well to not let that bother me until about last night. No matter what happens, my gut will be in knots the entire time. I'm just glad the Wolves' tour starts there. Everything else will be a breeze, unless I run into some worst case scenario type action or information.

Adding to my sinking mood, I've seen a certain model of car about 5 times today, and heard a certain name a few times, and been reminded of some particularly fond memories. Then, I go to meet my mom for lunch, she has to cancel because the courthouse where she works was on lockdown. A guy who was to be on trial today for sexually assaulting his daughter, who I've heard was mentally handicapped, apparently ran his daughter over with his car before going into the courthouse and shooting 4 people with a rifle, killing one, and I believe another died afterward. (It's been a while since I posted this, and the idea that I almost got my mom shot won't leave my mind. She'd have left 2 hours later if I hadn't rescheduled our lunch.)

Kinda hard to stay exclusively happily excited about the upcoming tour and my new guitar being painted, but it's a start.

I am finding sense in acting as a libertine to numb myself and replace my hopes of something I've always wanted, but will doubtfully ever achieve.

I Like You

Whether or not we know each other well, whether or not we've argued or fought, whether or not we ever had or ever will be lovers, whether or not we ever met, I'm aware of you, and I like you.

A Quick Note

I have fallen more in love with guitar. And bass. And Italian jazz.

Oh Yeah...

I had a dream I killed someone! It was nuts! At times, I knew it was on purpose, and other times I thought it was an accident. Eventually it drove me insane.

Anyway...

Harvesting Wealth, in the Jake Hooker Fashion

I'm about to have orientation at my new job, then I'll be on The Danger Zone, an internet radio show on xprtradio.com. I'll soon co-host another radio show on the same station. Tomorrow it's back to bussing tables for a couple of days.

Four sources of income, not including a band that pays me cash and a band that is ultimately my career band. I'm about to not be broke anymore!