I’m in LA. Seeing old faces.
Most friends–decade old–fall under two cats:
1: working a mundane 9 to 5, but settled. Houses, cars, gears.
2: haven’t started their careers yet, struggling with dough.
The second group branches out into two sub-groups. Ones who haven’t started because they haven’t done nothing, and ones who haven’t started because they’re dreaming big, aiming big, trying to pursue what they love in a fucked up Americano econo.
Two of my closest friends fall under the latter group–the Mike McDermott/Knish Grinders. Both wanna go Hollywood, one in front of the screen, the other behind.
To see grown-ass-men talk about struggling with cash and keeping nightly activities to 4 dollar Dennys value meals and 3 dollars second-run cinemas was a bit shocking at first, considering I’ve been living in Hong Kong, where most English speakers in the city are rich kids or expats on high salaries (I am the poorest English speaker in HK, I’m quite sure of that. I mean like, Western English speaking though, Filipinos don’t count) who fly around the world randomly for weeks at a time.
But you know what? I respect this group the most. The grinders, chasing they dreams. That was me four years ago. That will be me soon.