An Army of Sixteen
October 10, 2012
So I walked out of work yesterday at 5, and I did not know what to do. After a boring, uneventful day at the office I was released into my boring, uneventful world.
I can always go buy more ties.
And so I set out for the Salvation Army. It’s a bit more than a couple miles away, so I had time to reflect. I try not to talk about my new tie-related hobby of sorts very much. I am well aware of its greater, and utter, pointlessness. It's embarrassing. But, in a pointless way it’s something to do. I don’t do this for “fun”; I do this for… recreation?
I walked, and I pondered mankind's curious nature while passing an army of randoms on the street, few of whom looked much happier than your typical Washington-Metro bus and subway riders. Just how fine is the line between unhappiness and boredom? Every year tons of people kill themselves. Ostensibly because they are unhappy. Our good friends at the National Institutes of Health say more than 34,000 people in this country offed themselves in 2011. But you know what stands out more? “An estimated 11 attempted suicides occur per every suicide death.”
Jesus. Talk about American FAIL.
But I digress. Observing my hollow fellow District residents I had to wonder: do you think most suicides result from boredom more than sadness? “Depression” has a sexy ring to it. It sounds real medical; it can be easily co-opted to explain an otherwise seemingly pointless and tragic death. And, as I continued my walk in pursuit of more neckties, I wondered just how much credit “boredom” deserves for suicide being the 10th most popular way to die in this country.
It feels like a necessary caveat to add that I certainly have no such inclination or intention, and for a number of reasons. For one, I have my ties. Besides, how much would it suck to commit one of the 10 in 11 failing attempts? Those, those are some shitty odds. And, should I have that dubious success, I could never achieve my dream of owning a Chia Newt Gingrich which would be a tragedy in and of itself.
And now that I have sufficiently buried the lead: I eventually arrived at the H Street NE Salvation Army, and had at it. I walked out of there with these 16 “new” ties at a buck-fifty apiece, then walked a mile to Union Station, and was soon home. Still bored, but, I have more ties than you.
