Philistine

Did you ever have that trippy thing happen wherein you hear a word–a name, a reference to a movie, whatever–that you haven’t heard in forever? You’re traipsing along and suddenly someone mentions Punky Brewster, and you think, “man, I haven’t  heard of Punky Brewster in years,” and then, later that day, in a separate, distinct, and unrelated conversation someone else brings up Punky Brewster, and the next thing you know, you can’t turn around without running face-first into people who can’t manage to shut the fuck up about Punky Brewster.

Just an example. It can happen with anything. Cricket bat. Dynamo. Polyp. There, see how many people are talking about those things tomorrow. It’ll drive you out of your goddamn skull.

Let’s pretend I’ve actually researched this and have concluded that there are a couple of widely-accepted scientific explanations, and that I am not completely making this stuff up. It can all be explained by:

1. Chance.
2. You’re actually always awash in conversations about Punky Brewster, but until it really catches your attention, it’s white noise.
3. The formation of zeitgeist is actually far, far more volatile than I’ve ever imagined. Let’s assume that the first time you hear someone mention Punky, you’re actually in one of a handful of conversations about her that are happening at that precise moment. Maybe the first upward swing of a week-long Punky-mentioning nanotrend. It explodes in the popular consciousness like a tennis ball stitched full of match-heads, and–as quickly–dies.

I really wish I could talk myself into the third, most interesting option. But I’m thinking it’s #2. Whatevs.

The weird thing is: you can kind of do it to yourself.

Anyway, rattling around in my vernacular for the last few weeks has been the word–and the idea–of “impulse.” I’ve been explaining workplace dynamics in terms of conflicting impulses, for example. But it’s everywhere. I’m not wedging the idea into lines of thought or conversations–I really don’t think so–but it’s such a beautiful word: continent, solid, crystalline. It stands for the things we want to do or don’t want to do but are driven by our animal urges or the better angels of our nature to do. It’s a feeling–funky or exuberant–and its kung fu is quite strong because it’s at once glamorously vocab and maddeningly vague.

I blame Joseph Campbell and my enduring fanboyism of his lectures for this.

Anyway, tonight’s impulse? No real reason (a phonecall from an old friend when I couldn’t answer it, a college homecoming trip this weekend, another buddy who’s far away and mopey tonight), but it’s not Punky Brewster, it’s Charlie Brown. In Snoopy Come Home. He says:

Why can’t we get all the people we  really like and put them in one place? No that wouldn’t work, someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then I would have to say goodbye. I hate goodbyes. I know what I need, I need more hellos.

Haunting and cathartic all in a couple lines.

‘Night, friends.