„And I wonder
when I sing along with you.
If everything could ever be
this real forever.
If anything could ever be
this good again.“
(Foo Fighters: Everlong. 1997)
Finally he was on his way to Seattle where he will have crossed the country for good. The Megacity at the tip of the edge of the US was also his first big city since … Omaha. For more than two weeks now he was in the west of the West and wished there was a thing called heaven, because it would look like this: Forever hiking in the Rockies. Endless views of mountain range, ridges to get obsessed with until the end of times. All those untold little stories revealing themselves in Undiscovered Country. And underneath it all the wish to have lived like this when he was younger. When he was just dreaming about all of this while listening to „Come as you are“.
But for more than just a couple of days now the Bearer of Glasses was listening to no more music like he used to. No car radio, no internet radio, no artificial harmonies at all. Just the beautiful and strangely familiar noise around him. The wind in the treetops, the humming of countless wires and the sounds of cars passing somewhere near by were blending together, creating a better White Noise. After his first full day in Seattle he was in the woods again. This time it was the Olympic National Forest on the the other side of the bays. His Campground was all a campground could have been if it should have been a campground in a nutshell: One single concrete loop and two dozen spots around it. The kids were riding their bikes in circles all day. Not even the broken hoop next to the dumpster seemed to be any wrong.
And it was just around here where he had his first two serious chats for weeks. About noon he was passing a Lady on their way up to the top of Mt. Walker. Minutes later she was passing him again as he had to set down for a break; the trail was steeper than he had expected and his heart was beating fast. At the Southern Lookout they met again looking for Mt. Rainier in the distance. But clouds were covering their views. She asked him if it was his first time up here. She noticed an accent and asked him where he was from. Surprisingly she knew nobody from Germany and he asked her instead if they could see Seattle from here if it wasn’t for the clouds. She seemed unsure but said Mt. Rainer must be out there for sure. „So, you did other hikes around here?“ He shook his head. „No, the other day I was hiking a trail in the North Cascades.“ She smiled: „Yeah, they are totally different. And where did you like it best so far on your trip?“ He waited, not sure to betray Montana that fast, „I can not say yet, but Montana and Washington are at the top for sure.“ Next two girls came by having their look at the clouds. The Lady and the Bearer of Glasses nodded at each other: „Nice to meet you.“
Just two hours later. as he was bringing the trash to the dumpster. the campground owner stood near by, cleaning the road: „So tell me, where are you from?“ He told straight up. „So you spend the whole summer here driving across the country? … You rented this thing, huh?“ He was pointing at the Camper. As the Bearer of Glasses nodded the Owner made a universal gesture, rubbing his thump and his index finger. „Yeah, I saved up for this for years.“
„And the fuel? The prices have gone through the roof lately!“
„I know. At the other side of the Rockies it was like 3,60, 3,70.“
„I know. And I don’t know why. They just have to bring it down from Alaska. How could that become so much more expensive?“ The Bearer of Glasses shrook his shoulders, not trying to try to explain. „And what are you doing when you’re not driving around the country?“ The Bearer of Glasses told again straight up. „And what courses do you give?“ The Bearer of Glasses was happy he had rehearsed that conversation and was able to keep the talk going. „So what you say about these kids today? Are they just like this where you’re comin’ from?“
„I guess.“
And so it went on for the quarter of an hour, discussing education and upbringing, the Owner had grand-grand children he told him. „And what did you say about that thing, AI? Will it change everything?“
„It will for many, I think.“ The Owner pointed at the dumpster next to them: „And, see, we are out here at the dump just talking about it.“
„Yeah, there is no AI to do that yet. And I gotta go, I’m hungry“ (which he was). The Owner leaned on his broomstick and waived: „Yeah, nice chattin’!“
Later the clouds finally took over and everything was cooling down for the night. The last week had been the hottest week ever recorded, worldwide. Here it had 70°F. This night he was tired early due to the hike but could not find his sleep. Old dreams and new ones were taking over too fast: Seattle. A myth even for most US Americans. The San Francisco of the 90s (no debating on that), the idea of Spirit turned dark. A smile and a grin and nothing but a thin line at the same time. The needle in the sky. Space to surrender to. He was getting poetic.
Early next morning he turned the Camper around and took the great ark around the bay to the City.
Lastest News on his feed was the death of Milan Kundera. The Bearer of Glasses searched his memory and found a span of a lifetime where uprising and love meant the same thing. When books were written about the last generation to inspire a new one.
Later in the afternoon he was sitting under a tree again. Just in the middle of Seattle. On Capitol Hill. Or: (the former) CHAZ. He remembered his talk with the officer back in Kentucky. A Riot Zone. Total Chaos. No Law nor Order.
And just two hours ago he was telling this story to another Bearer of Glasses in a tattoo art workspace in Ballard, just around the corner. The young man shrugged it off with a smile: „Come on! It was just a few month. They gave free food to the homeless people, it was no riot zone!“ His name was Mitch and he was from Montana. His mother voted for Trump. Why? Because his step dad did. They talked about Republicans and how they were working with general fear. „Same here, our right wingers stand at 20% in the latest polls“, the Bearer of Glasses sighed and explained the actual rise of Fascists in Germany. The playlist at the studio was another dream coming true: „New Slang“ was ringing in the air as Mitch asked for the meaning of the piece while inking dark green color into his skin, a straight line, up and down and up again. A heart beat line. An Amplitude. And also Code. The Bearer of Glasses hesitated for the split of a second but gave in to the art. Mitch just nodded: „Cool.“
At 5pm the park on Capitol Hill was a park like any other. A couple training each other throwing and catching a frisbee. Friends and (future) couples were sitting on blankets, talking with lowered voices. Moms walking their dogs on theit own. But there was no sadness in the moment, no There-has-to-be-more-to-it, no disillusion. Just an echo in time that smelled like over the ocean.
His arrival in Aberdeen was set for about 2am. He estimated a drive for two hours out to the sea. The show should end at twelve. Doors were at seven. So right now it was another beautiful hour just sitting in a park. In Seattle. Another thing he talked about with Mitch was California. Which he was still scared of. The talk did not help much. Mitch was thinking the same. Last time he was down there his wife was doing the driving because she was used to this traffic chaos. Mitch then asked about the show tonight. „Post-Rock?“ The band name also meant nothing to him. But he knew the venue. „Have fun tonight!“
„My biggest fear
will be the rescue of me.
Strange how it turns out that way, yeah.
Could you show me dear,
something I’ve not seen?
Something infinitely interesting?“
(Incubus: Echo. 2001)
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