Bodies

We walk through the zoo with a full day of sun. Lots of children are on school break. Muslim families enjoyed a day out after Ramadan. Tourists wear gear with the word “Seattle” on everything. Diversity is a wonderful concept, except when people talk to each other. An armed security guard conspicuously wanders through the Sahara.

Many exhibits are devoid of animals; some are cared for by staff, and others are out of sight, sleeping or hiding from noisy humans. I have always found zoos depressing, even with conservation missions and outcomes. We jostle for glimpses of nearly extinct species seemingly bored and deprived of stimulation; a toucan stares at painted greenery on a wall, a monkey hangs on the Truman Show netted limits of their rubber jungle, and birds sit on branches closer to the crosshatched sky.

My kids are engaged, and the exhibits spark curiosity. They are doing something analog, which gives me so much joy. “I have almost 10,000 steps, and it’s still only early afternoon.”

As Jonathan Haidt said in his new book The Anxious Generation, “Screens lead us to forget that our physical bodies matter.”

Today, we feel our bodies.

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Another Kennedy running for president feels like I went into a time machine with no hot tub - Zabruder, Sirhan Sirhan, Cuban missiles, Marilyn Monroe and Chappaquiddick. I was fed images of an American narrative by an apparatus peppered through Saturday morning cartoons, school assemblies, parades and the omnipresent TV.

James Earl Ray assassinated MLK on this day in 1964.

Weather app: A cloud emoji marks every hour of the day. Moisture is granular—gray and slate-colored garages blend into the cloud emojis—the light fools string lights on timers.

I adjust to my growing kids and new relationships with them. I look forward to spring break so the family can spend time together. Often, adults give kids structure, but frequently, my kids provide me with structure.

Escape The Vault

Metal support wire angles up a utility pole attached to a stake in the ground. Vines have cybernetically grown in and through the metal wire and yellow covering like a cyborg appendage.

We are partially made of plastic. Recycling won’t save us. Only stopping the source will. There are innovative start-ups like Timeplast that are creating plastic-like materials that can be programmed to dissolve in water with specific life spans: 30 minutes, a month, a year.

In David Cronenberg’s film Crimes of the Future , a group of evolutionists modify their digestive systems to be able to ingest plastics and other materials via a candy bar supplement.

It reminds me of another human-made technology with unforeseen consequences - the smartphone. Initially a tool to improve our lives, it is now rewiring our brain chemistry to become isolated, angry, fearful, and depressed humans. We are now seeing the mental health crisis of young people due to social media and its years of inculcation. Self-harm and suicide are rising, facts and fundamental truths can be destroyed with memes, and our country is on the verge of a dictatorship.

When I engage with my phone, I cling to lies of journalistic lies to assuage anxiety and fear. That’s what the media has done. Without facts, we are all just pushing opinions. And opinions are like assholes; we all smell like shit. The choose-your-own-reality of online content will destroy society. It already is.

I walk West Woodland's sidewalks. This is the antidote for me: embodied experiences using all five senses. A new brewery opened in the industrial zone as glacial zoning laws change with the death of old Ballard.

I walk in, and beer drinkers socialize among the stainless steel stills. I enjoy the non-hipster ambiance. I buy an IPA 4-Pack called “Escape The Vault.” The can says, “Quit your day job and escape the vault!”