
In this country a 27-year-old Caucasian male doesn't very often find himself in the minority. As I settle in for an evening of design work at the local coffee shop, I glance over the top of my MacBook to find a scattered population of Somalians and a loud cluster of Ham Radio Enthusiasts.
Now, don't get me wrong. If I have to spend time working in the evenings I would much rather have an interesting group of people surrounding me than have my cat (who would like to remain anonymous) pouncing on my overpriced/light-up keyboard. Or be surrounded by thirty 27-year-old Caucasian males, who would, by the way, provide about as much creative inspiration as a dog cleaning up after a particularly disastrous defecation.
Anyway, back to the coffee shop. It all started last Tuesday. I was busy putting together some logos for a client when, for a short moment, I thought an extraterrestrial was calling home from a deep-seated, leather upholstered chair to my right. Unfortunately I was wrong, however, not completely disappointed to find an older, Spock-like gentleman picking up a frequency on his hand-held radio complete with a four foot telescopic antenna. Jackpot. Who could have dreamed there were more on the way?
And so they came. One by one they carried their trinkets, books, and love for all things wired into the center of the coffee shop. Settling in amongst "real" peers for the first time since the Tuesday before to enjoy a long evening of radio jokes and machine speak.
Now, I should pause for a moment to clarify the minority reference above. Obviously I'm not Somalian. So, that leaves the Ham Radio enthusiasts. Hopefully it is obvious that I'm not a Ham Radio Enthusiast. Even if I were, I can guarantee you would walk into this coffee shop, look at the bubbling conversation over a disemboweled radio(?) and immediately place me in another category.
Moving on.
Tuesday night, a week later, same coffee shop. I had almost entirely forgotten "the radio people". Largely due to a camping trip over the weekend and about a thousand other things on my mind. Then, as I settled into my spot for the evening next to the big window, I noticed Spock sitting in the deep-seated, leather upholstered chair to my right. Glory. Whether it was the possibility of yet another evening lost in this strange world or just the coffee...I felt my heart race a little. I waited in great expectation as my favorites from last Tuesday stumbled in.
I was not disappointed. Nor was I unprepared. Knowing the great conversation that was about to take place, I slowly slid a piece of paper and pen out of my bag prepared to write down anything. Things were moving too fast, multiple conversations at once...books, drawings, bags of things I'm convinced were stolen from the CIA. And so, for the next half hour or so I obtained the following list of conversation topics. They are all accurate to the best of my ability, and have only been generalized minimally to fit in this post.
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Terabytes
Radio panels
Cars
Incandescent light bulbs
Solar cells
Wind mills
BBQ
Colonoscopies
Cash for clunkers
Oil drilling
Terabytes
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It was at this point that I decided to give up my little mission of recording their entire conversation, and focus my attention as much as I could back to my work. Their conversation peeked my interest only once more when they started discussing all the flaws of Adobe software products (which, I'm convinced, was for my benefit only). So, we'll see what's in store for me next Tuesday if I choose to visit the coffee shop. I'm sure, whatever I experience, there'll be Coffee, Somalians, and Ham Radio.