Enrique Eguiguren

Depression coming to a theater near you

Depression is like Tyler Perry

You know it’s bad

But then it leaves for a while

You forget about it

You start to think

Maybe it’s not as bad as they say

But then you experience it again

And you think

Oh shit

This is somehow worse than the last time

It’s something like that.

On Road Trips

Much has been made of the great American road trip. We talk about it like it’s such a wonderful thing, this essentially American journey across our great nation. However, lost in this conversation is the simple fact that road trips suck.

Let’s all be honest with ourselves: all the best bits of a road trip happen when you are not on the road. The memories made out of the car, interacting with the country, getting to see and eat and hear new things, that is what makes a road trip great, not listening to the radio and looking at cattle. There is plenty to be said about all the different things that make the great American road trip lackluster; however, in this piece I’d like to focus on one that’s especially close to my heart.

At some point in any real American road trip, you and your plucky group of friends/family members/prison escapees will inevitably come to a place of the country where there is essentially nothing but highway. If not for the other cars on the road and the road itself there will be no sign of human presence in the area. This area is the area of the road where you will find that there are only 3 radio stations available to you.

It sneaks up on you. The further you go from civilization the fewer radio stations you have, until suddenly you’re in the middle of WhoCares, Ohio. You will flip through the stations and find, suddenly, that there are very few available to you. In my experience that number is three, but yours may vary, though not by much. One of these stations will only be partially there; it will come in and out at times and there will be a lot of radio static, and unfortunately that station is probably the only one with bearable music. This leaves you with 2 options. One of those options will be dependent on the region you’re in, but don’t worry, it’ll be underwhelming. The other option, without fail, will be Religious radio.

There are many different kinds of Religious radio, but by far the most common and most insufferable is Christian Rock, a genre named as such because when you listen to it, you feel like you’re being crucified. You will try to escape it, but you cannot. This part of your trip will be your most harrowing.

However there is hope. Because I’ve found across the nation, from Austin to St. Paul, New York to LA, Detroit to someplace liveable, every singular station known to man (that’s not religious) will inevitably play Billie Jean. Without fail. It is impossible to travel this country with the radio on and not hear Billie Jean, even by accident. It seems that in this time of increased polarization, perhaps a nationwide love for the kid not being Michael Jackson’s son will be the glue that keeps us together. Perhaps it already is.

The oddity of the moderate

I’ve always found it odd that we are told to give people a chance, to extend a hand in friendship. I’m not saying that that is a bad thing to do. But people who say that always do so in a way where they just expect you to do it, as if it’s an easy thing to do, and that there would be no reason to not do so. I’m supposed to give a chance to people with confederate flags, who call people like me spicks and who wish my friends would be deprived of their rights because of something irrational that they cannot control. Peaceful progress, love, is the only true way mankind can ever really come closer to achieving a state of higher enlightenment, for that is a revolution in hearts and minds, not in paper and in law. But love is hard to create for those that hate you. So excuse me if I don’t shake the hand of the man who spits in my face.