What do you look for?
In 1989 the earth shook in California - more specifically in Loma Prieta. I was sitting in my car having lunch. Now, I was born and raised several yards from the San Andreas Fault, so I'm fairly conversant with earthquakes. When this one hit I was reasonably certain that one of my friends had started jumping up and down on my bumper. Then I noticed how everything else was moving and realized it was nothing but a little earth dance. I made sure nothing frightening was likely to fall on my car and turned my attention to the store I was working at. There was a gaggle of men being amazed at the patterns the plate glass window was making as it shook. By the time I'd gotten the car door open to tell them to move their fool asses away from the glass that might shatter all over them when the pretty patterns of it's shaking got to be too much for it's integrity all was calm again. You see, they were from France where things stay the same, where glass isn't likely to pop out of it's frame at a tectonic whim. I sometimes explain to people that a good way to understand Californians is to realize that where we come from the earth doesn't just sit still and let you walk all over it. In addition to earthquakes, the part of California I grew up in was prone to mudslides. I had friends who's parents had to regularly re-survey their land because the property markers would move, or in one case wash a mile and a half down stream. It's a place where the phrase "as sure as the earth under your feet" warrants a chuckle.
Before, during, and after 1989 I was seeing someone who lived in The City (The rest of the country calls it San Francisco). She grew up in the East, and was away for the earthquake. (If you know me and haven't heard the story about my drive to check on her apartment, don't worry - you'll hear it sometime.) When she got back she loved to notice and point out cracks and other evidence of seismic activity. After a little while I commented that for me pointing out things like that was like pointing out cigarette butts. At which point I pointed out several. For a while it was tradition; point out cracks and butts (but not butt cracks). Since that time I've noticed both much more than I had before. I'm sort of tuned to 'em now.
This brings me to the picture above. A friend is doing a photo assay of the nips and other alchological detritus that's to be found lying about in Salem. This has reminded me of the crack & butt watch. It's also made me think of an exercise I encountered reading Robert Anton Wilson. You visualize a quarter vividly and then keep your eyes open for quarters lying around. Many people seem to be surprised at how many quarters they then notice. Many also seem to create interesting theories about those quarters, but my take-away from this had to do with seeing what you're looking for.
Come to think of it, I seem to have forgotten to remember to look for things I'd like to find and to forget to look for where the things I'd prefer not to be there aren't...
(Half a bottle of wine was harmed in this writing, yet I only found eight misspellings. I can't wait to see how the structure of this looks in daylight... :)
An addendum after a bit more wine:
Sometime after I'd moved back east for the second time I re-read Prometheus Rising (Robert Anton Wilson's book that has the nifty quarter trick on page 6 of my copy). As is often the case I was feeling a bit too clever for my own good. I carefully visualized a $100 bill. I figured if I found only one that day I'd be well ahead of the program. Can't hurt, right?
I went out wandering through Somerville and Cambridge. I eventually found myself at Papersource. Just inside the door they had wrapping paper that looked like giant $100 bills. Eventually i realized that the whole store was watching me laugh...
