The Everywhereist

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I don’t understand kids today. I’ve tried. But they are nothing like I was at their age. In my younger years, I did not swoon over effeminate beauties like Justin Bieber (we didn’t even have an equivalent in the mid-90s. We settled for a young Brad Pitt and we liked it). I did not have floppy hair. I watched black and white movies, was oddly obsessed with David Strathairn, and I really liked wearing sweater vests (it’s cool to be jealous, because I was awesome).

I was concerned about things, though. I remember that. Things like nuclear weapons and pollution and equality. Those memories of my youth, of a time when I got angry at things more substantial than some dude leaving his blind up on a plane, are what led me to Occupy Wall Street this past fall.

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I visited Occupy London on an unseasonably warm and sunny day in late October. In a paradox that is no doubt indicative of who I am, I stopped off at St. Paul’s Cathedral, where the Occupy protesters were gathered, before heading off to Spitalfields (the famed shopping district).
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Yesterday afternoon, and in the wee hours of the morning today, a group of Occupy protesters headed down to the Port of Seattle. There they blocked traffic, attempted to shut down operations at the port, and clashed with police. Eleven people were arrested.

I, unaware of where the action actually was, walked along what was left of the Occupy encampment at Seattle Central Community College (the protesters were evicted last week, but there are a few errant tents and scragglers left over). I’d been too timid to go when there were actually people there – I’d visited the Occupy Protests in London and New York, and felt like an interloper. Now that most of the Seattle outpost was gone, and there was little to see, and few people milling about, I felt braver.

But still, I was an outsider, and the one man who I spoke to made that clear to me.

He responded to my questions in clipped answers. At the time, I didn’t think I was being terribly invasive. I asked where everyone had gone and what was going to happen now. He was clearly bothered – either by how little I knew about the movement or by the suspicion that I was, in fact, part of a bigger media outlet. The truth, had he known it, would likely have gone over far worse: that despite my unemployment and money woes, despite my Converse and old wool coat, I’m married to a CEO. And my life is pretty damn good.

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Today’s guest post is from my friend John Doherty. Rand and I met John last spring in Boston – right before he was about to move to New York. Since then, I’ve been keeping up with his life through his twitter stream and updates to Google Plus. His insights and observations are always interesting, but it’s his photos that really fascinate me. In an era where every kid with a Canon SLR thinks they’re a photographer, John is creating art with his camera phone. You gotta respect that.

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I am a fairly new New Yorker, having moved here in the middle of June from Philadelphia, and before that I was living in Switzerland for a while. Having grown up in small-city Virginia, I have been used to fairly homogeneous surroundings (I’m not saying that’s a good thing, I’m saying that’s what it is). Since I’ve moved to New York though, I’ve become enthralled with the variety of people around! I started this Instagram pictures series a few months ago on Google+, and Geraldine loved them so much that she asked me to write this guest post for her.

Some of the subway photos may come across as creepy, but I think they give us an interesting view into the world of New York City. The shots of the protesters at Occupy Wall Street will hopefully help put a face to the people that you see on the news.

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Occupy Wall Street
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The protesters down in Liberty Square were peaceful when I went down there on the afternoon of October 8th. Shouts were rising from back in the square and music was playing, but everyone was calm and peaceful. Here are a few shots of what I saw.
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The American Dream is the American Plight

"The American Dream is the American Plight."

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