Sidewalking

Once, not too long ago, I was showing yet another visitor around my new city. We were passing through Time's Square, on a Sunday afternoon, and I was talking about something that was important to me at the time. I do not remember what exactly I was talking about, but it was important. I stopped when I noticed that my friend's eyes were glazed over; he was not listening to me.

"What do you think about that? Did you even hear what I just said?"

"Huh? No, I'm sorry. There's just so MUCH going on! Hey, do you think that army recruiting station would show up on my camera phone?"

And then I realized that we were in the middle of Time's Square where, indeed, there is quite a bit going on, and I forgave my friend for not listening to me. I helped him find a good angle at which to shoot the army recruiting station, which is plotted smack in the center of this block of capitalism, and I let my friend continue with his daze. But I couldn't remember when that shock wore off for me; when Time's Square became just another block. I am no longer mesmerized by capitalism's frankness, as my dandy Marxist friend was, and the army recruiting station, the raw military power at the center of this consumer spectacle, is just another obstacle among the globs of tourists that I need to get past in order to reach my real destination.

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