Honesty is Currency
February 16th, 2008
There’s something to be said for grunge.
My life is caught somewhere between a chaotic mess and an ideal. On one side I’m trying to reach that movie-dream life, filled with manicured lawns, accented living rooms and bathrooms with little baskets of shells on the toilet. On the other I avoid shaving whenever possible, prefer denim and fleece to khaki’s and polo, and seem to have a disability regarding the proper placement of dirty laundry. Even so I feel like I have to make my life look more Disney than Disorganized, and as a result am maintaining a carefully constructed façade.
This is starting to annoy me.
I like honesty, I like plain talk. It gives me a good sense of where I stand and how I can relate to something, yet these days it seems that I can’t find this honesty anywhere anymore. Not in politics, not in the news, not even in myself. Everything has a spin, everything has a marketing message, and everything is trying to convince me in some way to want something I don’t, to be something I’m not, to put forward someone who only exists in my imagination.
Well, that’s not entirely true. I caught myself thinking about Baila, Shezronne’s dance studio this morning, and I realized that even though the location is… well, a little rough around the edges, I still felt remarkably comfortable there. With them it’s not about the image, it’s about the dance and the passion behind it, not hidden behind some mask.
This is the same reason Pittsburgh will always have a special place in my heart- most of it has stopped pretending, stopped trying to put up that manicured facade of the ideal city. It has done its part and served its duty to history, and like an old steelworker has retired to enjoy the sunset on the front porch. There are no pretenses there: What you see is what you get, and though it’s run down it still has plenty to offer.
Here in Columbus the mix is much different, and in many cases the difference between the manicured and the genuine is blatantly obvious. Many things are fake, new, or overmarketed: Easton, my Gym, most of the Short North, BoMA, the Capital Club… the list goes on. These stand in contrast with communities that thrive in spite of their surroundings, driven by passion rather than appearances. The swing community, for instance, is small but genuine, as are the Tangueros. Cafe Apropos exudes a comforting aura of granola crunch. Baila, as mentioned, and several others I’ve come across.
Is it surprising that my life in Columbus has gravitated towards places like this? Not to me- Honesty is a tangible currency, and when I’m in these places I feel less fake and more myself.
Sometimes? Your fake is actually someone else’s honesty.
I’m not certain I agree here- for instance, I might be turned off by the snobbery of a five-star restaurant, but I don’t necessarily think they’re being fake. Genuine snobbery is, after all, still genuine. What I’m trying to get at is something like the difference between Piper’s Pub (in Pittsburgh) and O’Shaughnessy’s & The Brazenhead. All three claim to have Irish roots, but the latter two don’t actually serve Irish food. A Hollywood version of an Irish Pub, all facade, no substance.
Columbus does seem to be pretty thick with the pseudo-stuff. I think it’s the strength of the branding in this town. I had my first brush with Dublin the other day (cheap dinette set – yay!), and it’s… a McTown, complete with stylishly subdued fast-food places, and shamrocks on the police cars.
For a moment there I thought you were referring to Dublin as a cheap dinette set…
Heh. Nah – some upwardly mobile folks were getting rid of one. Bonus for me: I finally have a place to serve company! I think being on the east side, I don’t really see much of that side of Columbus. Aside, perhaps, from the yuppie Kroger – but I think everyone should have a live jazz accompaniment while they browse the frozen peas.
I still think that cultural limitedness is as authentic as some people get. But I also believe that people, their enjoyment of a place, of each other, and of the time they’re spending is what creates a sense of place and authenticity, even in a knock-off pub where the owners wouldn’t know a shepherd’s pie if they sat in it. In a McSociety there is a certain amount of comfort to be found in understanding the differences between the knock-offs and the originals, and still finding ways to enjoy both for what they are.