The paradox of our time

Bridging back to IRL again

Over the past year or so, I’ve posted a handful of retellings of IRL encounters I’ve had that were really nothing more than a regular interaction. There was this super chill black chick with puffy rainbow hair at the dispensary; a very leftist-looking Latina girl at a coffee shop who is a young mother and also mega cool. I never really explained why I was relaying these exchanges. There wasn’t anything special happening in them… but that’s really the point.

The first time I had this revelation the hardest was after becoming tight with that coffee shop mom. I’d say what up every morning, she’d be happy to see me, we’d shoot the shit over small stuff. Never really got much below the surface, but that was aight. We were mega friendly and always enjoyed the exchange; both ways. We still do today. One day I was doing as I am want to do and sitting in a coffee house just thinking about life and these cultural wrinkles when I realized that if her and I ever really dove down below the surface it would likely drive us to a place of conflict. I can tell just by her septum ring and hair ways and fashion sense and where she works that she likely sits pretty far on the political left. I’ve come to sit pretty far on the political right. So in this WWE arena which politics has now become, we are destined to be passionate enemies, right? But we’re not enemies. Quite the contrary, we get along well. We have a lot more in common than we have apart. Those commonalities are what grew into that happy relationship we formed that led to mutual smiles every morning. But see, that’s because we met IRL first and saved “Religion and politics don’t make for polite conversation even amongst polite people” for later. In fact, we still haven’t gotten there. THIS is the wickedness and danger of pushing a mantra that “The personal is political!” and “Solidarity!”. That’s just tribalism, zealotry, goon behavior. This is one of the biggest issues we face as a people right now. And I don’t just mean us here in the States, but the entire world. Humanity itself.

“The Marty Dilemma”. I dubbed this silly phrase a ways back to describe this social Aftertimes as opposed to the pre-internet world. Back in the day - and this wasn’t that long ago; it was my day and I’m not that old - we didn’t have any electronic/virtual mediums to meet each other through. You had to interact in real-life (IRL). We met people at ball games, restaurants and bars, community events and block parties. In those settings, we met each other all as people first. We didn’t walk in and immediately sort ourselves into political and ideological camps. Instead, we’d be standing watching our kid try and hit a ball next to another father who is also standing there watching his kid try and hit a ball. “Beautiful day for baseball, isn’t it? I remember the feeling of standing out in that field very well; sun beating down on me, gnats all over my face. Time flies!”. Guy agrees, responds and shares in the nostalgia, now we’re having a wonderful conversation about grape flavored Big League Chew bubblegum pouches.

On my way out of this trivial exchange, I’m probably giving the guy a bro-prounds and saying sincerely that it was nice to meet him. Next week, I walk up and say “What up” when I see him because just like that a friendship has sparked. Repeat that week after week and we’re probably quite tight by the end of the season. Repeat that day after day across every sphere in my life and suddenly we’ve got alliances all over the place. How normal life now sounds so radical! Because see, in the post-internet world that often isn’t how it goes down at all. Let’s shift over to a block party…

I’m sure most reading this have been to those. One neighbor opens their property to the street, or a community area hosts a party for the surrounding homes. A gathering where you all live together but don’t necessarily know each other. There is this old redneck guy named Marty who lives in the weird house down the weird gravel street that no one is really sure how it became part of the HOA. But it did and he is and Marty is a beloved member of the community; albeit one with some oddities and intricacies. Not too many people have ever been down the gravel driveway, but all have seen the hubcaps and metal rooster at the front of it. But Marty is no recluse. He likes to be out and about and, like a modern day frontiersman, the man seems capable of fixing anything that can break. He’s happy to do so and fixes all types of stuff for everyone. Everyone loves Marty The Handyman. Not that you’d want your daughter to marry him, but you’ll definitely have a beer with him at the block party. Might even ask if he has experience with water softeners.

But now let’s pretend you’re a modern-day revved-up political internet-type. I could paint this hypo either way (because this wicked society-shredding dynamic operates in every direction), but let’s say this couple are hardcore Harris-Walz types who have been genuinely convinced that Trump supporters are the end of democracy and everything hateful and bad. This is The Moral vs. The Monsters propaganda that has warped our nation to terrifying levels. They don’t know Marty; they don’t have any of the history of who this man is. They just see an old poorly dressed white guy in a Trump hat (or maybe even just a USA hat) and that’s all they need to know. They go out of their way to not interact with Marty. They’ll live their entire lives without ever knowing each other. In the end, they’ll both prefer it that way. Tragic. America cannot both be a free and inviting land while also being an ideologically homogenous land. Imagine how these layers play out online. This is really what I mean by “The Marty Dilemma”, the next logical steps from here…

In this postmodern internet-first world, we are introduced to almost everyone at every point of contact BY THESE labels and identities and facades and inherent dividers. I mean, shit, could there be a better example of that than millions of people proclaiming on their bios and even resumes that they are male or female? Holy cow! That is this concept on a Twilight Zone-level of steroids. And it’s a horrifying reality that is still largely underway today. Microsoft (all the Big Tech places) open meetings with what present like cult seances of exterior labels and dividers. The cruel irony of course being that it’s all driving commands and coercion of a singular mindset and ideology. But let me not drift there this time. What this is, is basically that internet concept now being morphed into the real-world. As long as Marty is always The Trump Voter, then a significant portion of our populace will tragically refuse to ever be associated with him again. This used to be a one-way street largely because of the uniformity of media propaganda and who that Hatecraft was targeting and empowering (see: “flyover states” and how “highly educated” has been weaponized). But with communication capture now disrupted, this wickedness is flowing heavily in all directions. Plenty on the right have now fallen into the identical type of hatred as politics, dehumanizing of dissent into abhorrence.

There is a reason I am touching on this gap between IRL and the online realm so hard here. The solution to our societal malaise is found therein. I was at one of my favorite coffee shops yesterday shooting the shit with one of their owners and their main coffee guy. I’m fascinated by the man! He’s neat, friendly, smart, super knowledgeable around my favorite drink and loves to share his wisdom. He and I talk several times a week. He asked about my writing for the first time. We’ve always had largely superficial convos or discussions around his trade and restaurant. But he asked what I write as he knows I go Hemmingway in St. Augustine’s wonderful network of coffee shops every morning but that I’m ultimately a lawyer by trade and by day. I started to tell him (couching my words a bit as this is a VERY aesthetically left-leaning place and he himself has markers of where he resides on the spectrum of politics) and it caught his interest. Of course it did, because he and I share a ton in common. I’ve talked a bit about my kids, my love for the city, even some swirling thoughts about times and community. He and I have a TON more in common than what we have apart. But that’s in totality. If you asked us to just discuss, say, political platform or one fiery topic in that bucket, I am almost willing to guarantee you he and I will shake out on opposite sides. And then what? We’re opponents? Well, on THAT issue, yeah we are. This is what that famous quote means: “Religion and politics don’t make for polite conversation even amongst polite people.” Of course not! It’s a form of competition, an adversarial posture, one with significant real-world impact. Anytime we drill down on these groundfloor topics as a group or greater people, we are going to have division. And that division will be passionate and, in turn, the disagreement fiery.

If I had turned to the father watching baseball and brought up the latest political hot topic consuming the airwaves, is it playing out the same? Are we leaving with pounds and “See you next week”? Probably not. Well, maybe a 40% chance or so. ;-) See what I’m saying? That quote is eternal wisdom distilled into one sentence. Life is not about teasing out the conflict! Not unless your objective is very anti-humanity. We want to bring people together and celebrate in that which we share in common, not drive wedges in that which we can identify to divide and fight over.

As I got older and have lived through these wild identity-obsessed and tribal times, I’ve returned to this chapter of my life a lot. Thinking about how neat the connection was; how it enriched us both so much; how wonderful and different and deep those cultures were and how that is this planet’s greatest resource. I found those kids to be magical! They were gems, every one of them. I have some things they gave me in my office today. They make me smile all the time. In my dream world, I’d spend the rest of my days traveling this rock and trying to immerse myself in those kind of experiences as much as possible. I have many tales of strange paths crossed with random and interesting people. Probably my favorite stories in life! It’s bizarre what we’re doing to each other in the west. It’s antithetical to the human experience, contrary to what this should all be about.

So as my coffee guru friend and I were creeping closer to the meat and potatoes of what I’m all about, what it is these keys are hammering into the Interwebz in his shop so many days a week, I was almost feeling a sense of trepidation. The other girl who mans the bar most mornings is also leftist AF in appearance. Septum ring, kind of skaterish and cool-looking though, not all radical and angry. She’s actually always happy and positive to interact with, Her and I get along great. We chat (superficially) a lot of mornings too. She reminds me of the girls who used to kick it with my crew in the high-school days. We were some bad mofos (or at least very convinced we were) and had a pack of girls who ran with us. Think Stussy era and chicks in JNCO jeans. She would have plugged right in that world. I bet her and I could kick it easily. Again, way more in common than apart. But if we met on paper, it would be the exact opposite. We’d present like sworn enemies if we were both reduced down to an ideological D&D character sheet. The chef that very morning was new and OMG he was a Queer+ mascot. He had green hair and a septum ring and a lot of makeup and was visibly uncomfortable in his own skin. I don’t mean that so rudely, because I chatted with him too and he was cool. We could interact fine, though I wouldn’t be able to hang out with him the same. I say it because he is not the same thing as the girl or my coffee buddy. But in the dystopian political reality we’ve been thrust in, they’re just all on the same team because The Moral and somehow I become evil because The Monster. I’m not saying either of the two behind the bar would see me as evil as we’re more like friends now - we’ve chatted at the fence at the baseball game. But on paper. Yes! Absolutely. On paper we present as foes.

He asked if he could read my work. These thoughts (especially the new chef) were all crashing down on my mind at once. If I show him, inevitably the word spreads and my vibe there changes, no? Again, tragic. Why would this be? I’m the same guy either way. But I’m at a new point in this journey I’m on as Theo, a dividing line I’m now willing to cross. I don’t want to hide anymore. I did it for reasons I don’t worry about as much anymore. And even though this concern if vibe shift was at front, I can’t get the message I want to get out wide enough unless/until I’m willing to walk this journey IRL and here as one. So if an interaction like this leads to the anonymity walls crumbling down or warm fuzzies losing some fuzz, so be it! I’ll just tell him and we’ll see where the cards fall, I’m thinking in real-time. I don’t think he’ll actually judge me. He likes me, just like I do him. He’s also a good dude, not an intellectual child. But as I am about to, a customer asks him a question and then a stream of them came in. Place was bumping yesterday! “I’ll come back and chat with you when you’re less busy”, I said, and took my killer cortado over to my window to write. We never did speak again that day. I’ve thought about the interaction a ton since and it resulted in this piece.

The paradox of our time is how we get back to a place where I can be honest about who I am in that shop and yet still have those inside able to create the inroads with me that have occurred without them knowing these ideological labels. One of the most profound ironies (and revelations) for me throughout this work I’ve done and Footprints I’ve walked is that I often sit in physical areas that are 80%+ very left or at least so you’d think on the exterior. I often write in coffee shops, that’s the wave I ride. I pace around Flagler College every day. One of my Hemmingway spots is a vegan place. I’ve met great people and built bridges in every single one of them. Because I like people and get along with people. All types! “Good people recognize other good people.” I’ve spoken that line since I was a young teen giving snaps to OGs and it became a life mantra. I don’t need you to agree with me. I don’t need you to dress like me or present in my preferred manner. I don’t need you to share in ideological fealty with me. I don’t need you to want the same things for this country politically for us to form a friendship and a bond of life energy. I’ll even build with you, if we can figure out a way. And what’s so amazing and exceptional about this American project is that there surely is a way.

I sit in these areas, however, unable to share with those around me with my mouth what it is I’m sharing on here with you through my hands. I literally sit there as ____ (← that’s my real name) and interact as that person, but am then typing here as Theo. What Theo says here is the same things I believe in IRL. The painful irony is the groundfloor layers I’m fleshing out and reinforcing here as Theo are largely the same wavelengths that I’m building those bridges with IRL as real-me. We’re talking about the same stuff on both fronts! But if I simply share the titles, the nomenclature, the identity labeling, then all of that is rendered valueless. Everything that matters becomes nothing at all. For what? Permanent tribal hostility? Madness! Intentional destruction, IMO. And so I don’t tell anyone around me what my name is on here. I’m just the anonymous writer guy there too. Weird.

I know this framing cut one way, but this is not a one-way problem. Someone from the other side of the aisle could do this same thing sitting in different locales every day while being passionate about different groundfloor values. Do you feel me? We cannot allow ideological and political labels to supersede the most important layers of who we are as people, and families, and communities,. That is the most anti-American notion I could possibly think of. I don’t know how we do this exactly. It’s one of those things easier to identify than solve. I’m certain the tool to escape this quicksand is discourse, conversation, experience, knowing each other face-to-face, shaking hands. Perhaps I’m helping unwind it right now in this coffee shop.

This is not the place I was writing about above. But my goodnesss do I love it here! They just opened near Old Town and put a ton into the structure and gardens and patio, etc. The fireplace is legend! The manager burns real logs every day. Anyways, he and I had an emotional chat this morning about my daughter. He’s a neat man, eyes sparkle with charisma!, and has taken an interest in my family and especially her. He asked how she was (called her an “Old Soul”) and I shared the unfortunate news re the tough times she’s having with bullying and not really having friends at school. The sincerity and emotion when he speaks is almost like magic. It kind of parallels that feeling of being with a boy you know would throw down for you if shit hit the fan. This guy isn’t a fighter, but he’d go to war for those he cares about. He wears it like a cape; I don’t even know if he’s cognizant of this. Mega Christian guy. I’m rather certain these two things are tied together. We had a deep talk this morning and I told him a lot more about myself and the journey I’m on. He liked it. He smiled a lot. Like my wife and many of you, he thinks I’ll soon be a Christian. But these sentiments aren’t about that and nor was the basis of our convo. This wasn’t based around ideological fealty in another direction. It’s based around love and groundfloor values we share in. It’s not a coincidence his #1 advice for me was to build her self-confidence while also keeping her grounded in a sense of something greater. Humbleness; “taking the lowest place”, we said almost simultaneously. We both know what that contrasts. We share on wavelengths intensely. We can almost communicate psychopathically. Guy came out just a minute ago and handed me a t-shirt. Told me to give it to my daughter and let her know the family at this place loves her and she’s always wanted at the house. What a neat man. That will actually mean a lot to her. I tell her this all time; focus on the layers and bridges that matter, my love. Jordan didn’t overcome Xavier McDaniel by fist-fighting him. He absolutely destroyed his ass between the lines with his excellence. “You can’t guard me!” Our advice for her is the same. It doesn’t make the reality in those Mean Girl halls any easier, but it’s amazing to know how tied in we now are with a life network of such amazing and strong people. Lions! Man, does this segue cleanly into what I wrote yesterday…

I won’t drift too much into this as it’s fleshed out so much in the other pieces above. But I’m really transfixed on this notion of “Inclusivity” and how it pertains to the church. More specifically, I’m fascinated by my own journey and where I find myself today, both physically and philosophically. I’ve grown to be such a part of this community that the leader will miss having me at worship. These are small private ceremonies where not many parents are fortunate enough to be able to attend. I’m in an exclusive sphere there. I wasn’t granted that spot; rather, I’ve been an active member of this network in St. Augustine for several years now. I was one of the lions on guard when some of our beloved treasure found itself under serious threat.

One of my favorite pieces of music came on right as I was wrapping this up. I sat back and stared at the gorgeous sky and let the mind shuffle things around. I see the vision, my friends. I know what I both want and need to do. Want for this new flaming spirit I must chase. Need for my kids to experience what is required to have the groundfloor foundation I want to know they have before I sign off from this great duty. It’s this below. And I’m going to get there! I’m going to focus in harder starting today than I ever have before.

Look at this exchange I had with Old Hollow Tree (

Ryan B. Anderson

) yesterday on X (click pic). Man oh man! I want this so bad I can taste it.

I just went in and told my boy inside that “I AM” going to be a writer soon full-time. He said “I know you are” with such heavy confidence.

“I’ve had this vision for a long time that if (when) I finally make it, I hit the number that allows me to shift my M-F focus over to this, I’m going to throw a big thank you/launch party. Digital family people, real family and friends, my work crew who made this possible, a bunch of locals here in St. Augustine who served as the fuel. Would you let me rent this whole place out? I feel like this is where it’s meant to be.”

“Absolutely!” *cue million-dollar smile*

“Rent the whole gorgeous house! Like 100 people.”

“Let’s do it, brother.” *bro pounds*

Let’s do it, indeed, my friend. 💫

. . .

This was the cloud-staring song. Don’t hate. I got married to Celine. She’s the amaze!

This just came on as I was hitting post. Also a great song…

I will be working hard next week to build out the content on TheoJordan.net. I want all of the audio recordings and essays to live there and be able to present in way that the work can become a composite instead of a menagerie of items. We have the framework in place, but now I need to flesh it all out and have direct links. It’s go time! Most of the content on the site will remain free to all (no account needed). But it is within the audio projects and personal essays that my path to achieving this dream and driving this discourse nationally is found. I really appreciate those of you who have already gotten in board. It means more than you could know. If you want to help drive this journey, the way to do it is an $8/month subscription through Substack which you can find out more about on the site. I genuinely believe by the time June rolls around, you’ll find the content and discussion being driven within it well worth the cost even outside of helping me get this sparked. Cheers!

https://www.theojordan.net/