So after a long and adventurous day of birthday celebrating, renewed friendship, and learning how truly exhausting it is to inject yourself into a full blow ladies night, I find myself to be quite exhausted today.

So during my lunch hour, I decided it would be completely refreshing to enjoy a 30 minute nap. I walk downstairs to the garden patio of my office building that is situated in the heart of Chicago’s financial district, directly across from the Mercantile exchange building on the Chicago river. I was lunch hour so there were a good handful of people dressed similar to me out and about on the gathering area, but I found a nice spot to stretch out on one of our tree planter benches. They’re clearly design for resting seeing ass they are nestled away from the main walkway and filled with fresh seasonal flowers, and big leafy trees.

So I put my feet up, set my phone alarm for 30 minutes, and drift off to the sounds of some Beatles tunes. Before I know I’m even asleep, I find myself trying to figure out what that god awful sound is I’m hearing. I snap to and realize I’m being yelled at to wake up. I open my eyes to a security guard angrily shouting… “Sir… Wake up sir”. I honestly couldn’t even gather myself I was so out of it. I had maybe been asleep for five minutes. I didn’t have a chance to even remember what my name was before I looked up and the security guard was gone.

So I tried to stew over the possibilities as to why it was necessary to wake me up, leaving out the possibility that this security guard thought I was a bum trying to catch a nice nap. First of all, I was sleeping on concrete with a concrete pillow, and second, I’m wearing the corporate costume complete with button down shirt and black leather, polished shoes.

So every other option I could come up with, came back to the same road block in my head. In the modern state of corporate America, we are obsessed to religious levels with productivity. I’m going to assume that the building that houses my employer has a code against people sleeping on their beautiful garden area in front of the building, because the security guard clearly felt that it was the right thing to do to wake me up.

And for the record, aren’t security guards there to protect people? I don’t recall hearing many incidents of people being mugged or harrassed by a sleeping person.

So the building doesn’t want people sleeping… why is that? does it look bad for them to have sleeping employees, or singular employee in my case, strone about your property during the one part of the day that is their time?

Lemme give it to you as straight as I can because the sour taste is still in my mouth. I think this was a small sign of  where we are as a modern society. I think the state of obsession that corporate America has for things like efficiency, productivity, wealth, status and the bottom line, has effected the way things are done more that people realize.

I think we can all admit that the times when we slow down, open our eyes and ears, rest our bodies and absorb the world around us, are the times we remember. The times we just stop, sit and soak. Vacations, long walks with friends, sitting in the woods near a fire, lying on a beach at night and listening to the waves, the bike rides along the lake, the motorcycle rides with friends, and one and on and on… We long for them because they are our escape from the daily demands of the world we’re living in. The traffic, the meetings, the deadlines, the ladder climbing, and these days, it’s still not enough. Now, people do their best and work as hard as they possibly can, and they do it with a new level of furvor because all around us, hard working people who aren’t doing anything wrong, are being kicked out to the curb and told to go learn a new skill so they can get back into the mix, and we accept it. We roll over and we take it.

The world used to be a place where people could do their part to keep society moving, and the natural balance of things provided us with a world where our hard work and human endurance, allowed us to take the other time of our lives and do with it what we pleased. We didn’t obsess over what was going to happen at work or whether or not we were even going to have work. There was no corporate god status like there is now, families could get plenty by by having one working parent, and people defined themselves by who they were, not what they did.

The consequence that worries me the most is I believe very strongly that our current state of things is deteriorating that which makes humans so incredible. Yes, we’re beings of physical labor, but so are other animals on the planet. What separates us from the rest of mother nature is our creative spirt and our ability to do amazing things with the brains we’ve been given. These days, in so many cases, we have become machines of flesh and bone. We clock in turning on the switch, and for the next nine hours, if the boss demands, you do not ask questions you just do, and when we clock out, the switch is turned off. That is of course if you are one of the many people I know who are required to answer their phone at any given time of the day, removing any chance whatsoever of escaping the work world.

Today, I was ike a machine that may have run out of fuel, and I needed a quick breather, but apparently, that is unacceptable. I believe very unwaverinlgy that the human spirit is a gift that we should stop and appreciate every day of our lives.

We are amazing creatures with a most amazing ability to observe, the love, to believe, to communicate and to appreciate. But something’s got to give. Maybe it is finally time to give way to the machines. Let the human ingenuity that has helped us create such amazing things take over and free us all from the restraints that have been placed on us.

Maybe it’s finally time we take the next steps in the evolution of man, maybe we come up with a different blue print of our what we want our society to be. Maybe make a place where productivity and efficiency in the name of success and the bottom line, finally give way to the concepts of community, generosity, ingenuity and exploration all in the name of love?

Who the hell knows? If someone has an answer, I’d love to hear it, but for now, I need to get back to work before my boss gets off the phone with her boss about something that his boss isn’t too happy about (couldn’t make it up if I tried) and catches me being inefficient.

I rest my back in a false patch of grass that was installed into the massive marble bench that sits on the sidewalk made of concrete that was placed over the real grass below that was never made to withstand the hardened soles of the daily labor parade.

The grass has recently drank from the purified river that man has created and the excess is slowly flowing into the aging receiving grate to my left. The echoing sound that it creates is like a slowly flowing stream during a dry season. My back begins to grow damp. I welcome the feeling of the cool moisture that sends a chill down my spine and I begin to feel
myself fading from the world we’ve created, to the world that we’ve come from.

I lay my book upon my chest, rest the back of my heels upon the dirt, and throw my arms back into the blades of grass and ask the powers that be, that in this short time I will spend here, that I may have a dream.

As the sounds of the world around me begin to mud together, my head becomes light, my feet and hands become heavy, and my heart slows. I fade into the sound of my engine humming at a steady pace, and I find myself on the one home that follows me wherever I go, the seat of my motorcycle.

The love of my life resting her chin on my shoulders as we roll with the cool east bound wind on our backs seeing the storm approaching us from the south. I cannot see her face but I can feel the waves of happiness that rush through me as her hair dances in the wind across my collar. I can picture her smile as she clenches her clasped arms together and squeezes me to tell me that she is thinking of me and that she is content.

This dream that is an escape from the appointments, and the schedules and the keyboard clicks, the bank statements, the bills, the career ladder and the false sense of success. This dream is the life I want to live.

I want to lie on my back and in the grass and listen to the thunder of the approaching storm that has turned the leaves of the scatterd trees on their backs, has painted the hot and dry prarie wind crisp and cool, and sent the fields of wheat running for their lives.

I want to stare at a campfire as night falls jotting down notes into a road worn notepad while the love of my life rests her tired head in my lap and the universe uses me as a voice to communicate her amazing creative ideas through me. As my brain runs rampant and I close my notebook and place it at my side.  I want to look down at my love as I run my fingers through her hair and see the look of peace as she re-energizes her beautiful soul.  I want the feeling of contentment to wash over me so often that I become immune to it.

The strange sound of thousands of stomping footsteps grabs my attention and I stare out into the starry skied landscape that surrounds me. The footsteps grow louder and the damp feeling on my back begins to rush over me. The realization that the Bike that I am leaning on is not leaking, but instead, mother earth is reminding me that it is time to leave my escape and return to my life.

I wake up staring straight up at the competeing peaks of two churches of greed towering over me to welcome  me back to life. I grab my book and begin walking to the bridge. The voices of the earth and the universe are starting to fade and as I place my book into my back pocket and merge into the crowd, they fade more until my pace has caught back up to the rest of the world and they disappear completely.

“Worse than Valdez” says the front page of the newspaper. Word is getting around that even while the oil continues to spew out of the floor of the ocean, BP’s oil rig disaster has surpassed the worst in American history.

I don’t remember much from the Exxon Valdez oil spill, but I vaguely remember being young and seeing animals being pulled out of the waters in Alaska, covered in oil with a hopeless look on their faces. At the time, my great aunt Sylvia was a champion for animal rights and made it a point to educate me on nature and environmental issues, so I grew up feeling affected by things like this. Yeah… crazy right? Some people were thinking green before reusable bottles were needed to curb our needless addiction to manufactured, boutique, aristocrat bottled water.

I’m gonna make this one quick, because I don’t need to say much to get my point across. Forget the politics, forget who we point the finger at, forget the worthless arguments that have taken place between the guy in the suit and the guy on the road bike about how much BP should go under because of this.

It’s as simple as this. This oil spill is an embarrassment to us all. America, big business, and ultimately, man kind as a whole. I’ve been bitching and moaning for a few years now about how it’s time we start taking our responsibility for being on this planet, a little more seriously. I’ve talked about how it’s a shame that we brush amazing scientific and technological breakthroughs under the rug in the name of the status quo & I’ve spoke my mind about the strangle hold that big, corporate America has on our society.

Well, here we are. Wild life, and the well being of millions of Americans is being destroyed. Americans who I would like to add have already shown some of the toughest skin on the planet after surviving hurrican Katrina.

I’m not really too concerned about which side of the political game you stand on, because it’s absolutely irrelevant. The fact is, this disaster is unacceptable and we should be ashamed of ourselves. The technology to guarantee that something like this never happens again, is right in front of us and has been for over a decade, but we sit on our hands and wait for the corporate powers that be, tell us what we should do next. We should have thrust forward with these new technologies in the spirit of human creativity and innovation, but now, I can’t imagine that any of us need any more excuses.

Industrialized man is the only thing on this planet with such a severe god complex, and we’ve convinced ourselves that it’s our divine right to do what we will with this planet. We take take take from the earth and don’t stop to think for very long about the consequences.  Well, this planet is not our sandbox created for our indulgences and entertainment.

I think we should all sit down and really reflect about this oil spill and think about the little steps and the big ones that we can take to make sure our children don’t know what the hell oil is besides the stuff that’s in their hair when they spent the last three days outside without showering.

We’re better than this people, and deep down, I know that you all realize that… Let’s show it.