KNOW WORRIES #32 - "Ask not for whom the door dashes"

In which I have to much power to be happy

Ask not for whom the door dashes. It dashes for thee.

It also dashes for me. Far too often, if I’m honest. When I need dinner? Door Dash. When I need a little treat? Door Dash. When I need dog food? Door Dash. And really, who could blame me? Because why would I go pick up dinner myself when I can just pay an extra $37 to get it delivered cold and soggy from a third-party app instead? And listen, I know that seems outrageously expensive for providing an often times completely unnecessary service, but it you don’t think about it at all, it actually makes a lot of sense.

Like, do I really need a dozen freshly made donuts and a bottle of bourbon at 9:30 at night? No. Of course, I don’t. In fact, not only do I not need them, but I should also not have them. But the more important question is are they available to me. And yes, you’re goddamn right they are. And there’s even a “just leave it by the door and don’t look my face” option so nobody but my pets has to see my shame, which as you might imagine, is considerable.

Honestly, I think Door Dash might be too much power for me to wield. It’s basically what I imagine being a King is like, only without all the wealth and syphilis. And I don’t think I can handle it. It’s just further proof that I could never be a superhero, because if I was Superman, I’d probably also mostly use those powers to go get food as well. Like, are you kidding? If I could go get a full English breakfast in the morning, authentic pad thai for lunch, and real deal sushi from Japan for dinner, you all would literally never see me again. Good luck with all those villains. Best.

Basically, I think convenience is killing me, both metaphorically and physically. And maybe spiritually and emotionally too. And definitely financially. I don’t know, I just don’t think my smooth little hunter-gatherer brain can resist the immediate availability of things after so many eons of struggling to survive. Honestly, should I really be expected to fight eons of carefully evolved adaptive behavior? I don’t think I should. Because even though I know I’m not going to freeze to death inside my cave any time soon, but for some reason I’m still like what if I don’t have enough bourbon and donuts to survive the winter?! What then? What then!?

But the real issue isn’t my caveman programming, because that’s been a thing for as long as I can rmember. The real issue is that they’re aware of my caveman programming. And that they’ve figured out how to effectively monetize it. And also I don’t really mind all that much. Frankly, I’m here for it. That’s an issue too. In many ways, the progression of the human race has been almost completely defined by the pursuit convenience. The desire to make things easier for ourselves. Well, congrats guys! We did it! Things are easy. And I hate it.

And it doesn’t stop at food either. Not by a long shot. Consuming other things is easier than ever now too. Take music for example. Every song ever recorded is at everyone’s fingertips at all times now. And that’s great. And I love it. But it also hurts my soul, because I once had to buy all of my favorite music on tape. And then on CD. And then on minidisc (for some reason). And then on mp3. And now, now all of that means nothing. It’s like all the time I’ve spent learning how to troubleshoot a printer. And for what? So I can teach my parents and my children how to print stuff? That hardly seems fair.

Sure, there’s value in convenience, but there was also value in things being inconvenient. For instance, I used to be able to just hand somebody my 100-disc CD binder that I kept in my car and be like “here is my whole personality for you to browse.” But now…now I have to actually talk to people for them to get to know me. And that’s less than ideal, because that’s a lot of effort just to forget somebody’s name and also everything else about them. Also, I’m probably not gonna watch that show, even if I promised to put it on my list. Yes, even Yellowstone.

And sure, having every song ever produced ready to go at all times is awesome, but sometimes it feels like there’s just toomuch good stuff to choose from. Now, I can always listen to exactly what I want to listen to, and that might sound great, but also…what happened to all the other stuff? What happened to life’s B-sides? Where are the filler tracks? Where are the weird instrumentals and the shitty covers? Where are mediocre songs I was forced to buy because I wanted to own the single? On tape. And then CD. And then minidisc (for some reason). And then mp3. They’re gone. I mean, they’re still there, but also they’re gone. And that’s sad, because those things were valuable in their own right. Like, valuable in the way that you appreciate a decent neighborhood after living in a shitty part of town most of your life, but hey, that’s still something.

And the same goes for movies too. Movies were just more special when we didn’t have access to all of them all the time. When they weren’t so convenient. When they were an event. Like I used to just have my parents drop me and my friend off at the theater and we didn’t even know what was playing. We’d just go pick something, because it was a movie, and movies were inherently awesome, so it didn’t really even matter if it was any good. Even if it wasn’t good, it was still great, because it was a special thing. It was a treat. It was something out of the ordinary.

And in a crazy twist, now that I can watch any movie I want whenever I want, I can barely bring myself to pick one at all. I just scroll and scroll and scroll, and I hate it. I swear to god, I spent less time browsing for movies when I had to wait for my parents to get home, ask them to drive me to Blockbuster, walk around the entire store, then loiter by the return counter until somebody dropped off whatever new release I was hoping to find on the shelves. Like now that I have the option to pick literally anything to watch, the pressure to pick the right thing is just too heavy, so I basically spend more time choosing a movie than I used to spend watching a movie. And that feels weird and bad.

I don’t know, I feel like I should have to earn some of these things in a weird way. I feel like they shouldn’t just be given to me all the time. And that goes for news too. Like, stop giving me news. Stop it. I didn’t ask for this. Get it out of my face. I don’t even care if it’s free. In fact, I want to go back to paying for it again. I want to have to buy it, and then I want it typed up on some actual paper, and then I want that paper delivered to my house, and then I want it to sit there and not be all up in my face until I’m goddamn well good and caffeinated and ready to start muttering under my breath.

And you know what? Let’s go back to throwing in a few comic strips and maybe a crossword puzzle or two while we’re at it. Like, if you’re going to make me want to end it all before 7:00 in the morning, at least let me check in on my favorite lasagna eating cat. Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I hate the 24/7 availability of all news. Like if you’ve got some good news, that’s a different story. But, you know, I don’t think they make that anymore. Good news is like Kudos bars. I haven’t seen any since the 90s and I still don’t know why they got rid of it.

Also, in a weird way, I feel like I’m too convenient. I feel like I’m too readily available. Like, no worries if I don’t answer your text, you can just try me on Facebook, Instagram, Bluesky, WhatsApp, Facebook Messenger, Threads, Twitter, Signal, Venmo, Telegram, Wechat, Linkedin, or contact me through my website. And I’m sorry, but I just wasn’t made for this. We are understaffed. I was made to have two maybe three friends, ignore their letters for years at a time, eventually succumb to consumption, and then spend the last few hours on my deathbed like, “Sorry for the late response, I was busy trying not to starve and watching most of my children die my whole life” or whatever.

As a matter of fact, I want to go back to having one phone, and having that phone mounted to the wall in my kitchen. And I also want to go back to having my mom be in charge of it. Because that way if I don’t wanna talk to whoever’s on the other end, she can just be like, “Sorry, he’s playing outside. And if I need to cancel plans, I can just have her call and be all, “Jonathan can’t make it, I just felt his forehead and he’s burning up.” Because it’s illegal to argue with that. And I’m tired of reusing the same picture of a positive covid test over and over.

Like why is my washing machine all up in my dms? Oh, my clothes are ready to be moved to the dryer? That’s great, but I just don’t care. They can wait there until they’re good and ready to be washed again. My car dealership is texting me, my doctor is texting me, every retail establishment I’ve ever purchased something from is texting me, and also several hundred scammers are texting me. And really, what does it say about the state of things that scams have gone from “I’m a prince and I need somebody to look after my money” to “I have a decent job with okay benefits for you.” It’s like they’re not even trying to fool me anymore.

All of these conveniences have made the world smaller, and that would normally be a good thing, but now it feels toosmall. And I’m starting to feel very claustrophobic. Honestly, I’m starting to feel like NASA. Like yes, I want to feel important and relevant, but also I still need space. Lots of space. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going for a walk until my dinner gets here. And if you need me, just hit me up on Facebook, Instagram, Bluesky, WhatsApp, Facebook Messenger, Threads, Twitter, Signal, Venmo, Telegram, Wechat, Linkedin, or contact me through my website. Or don’t. It’s whatever.