Time is ticking away - Beach condo

Ao Nang Beach, Krabi, Thailand

 Time, Pink Floyd, 1973

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
Fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your hometown
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long, and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it’s sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in a relative way, but you're older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death

Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over, thought I'd something more to say 

This song is worth listening to again. It carries a different meaning at 65 than 25. The lyrics are easier to understand the older you get. It’s a good wakeup call.

Two months ago, Ang and I walked in to the fun Boogie Bar here at Ao Nang Beach, Krabi, Thailand when the house band was playing a set of three Pink Floyd songs. They always play songs from my past – my past, your past, our past, men’s past.

It always smells like cannabis in there. It makes sense to me since that’s the way it smelled in the 1970s when we were listening to this music.

Since that night, I’ve been playing a lot of Pink Floyd at my new condo here at Ao Nang Beach, hyper focused on the song, “Time.” It’s crazy what one song can do to you.

Speaking of Time, it’s interesting what men will do when handed free time. Four months ago, I told myself to take a “metamorphosis pause” from writing. I was expecting to go inside my head and get all intellectual and everything.

I spent the first month reading some of the works of David Foster Wallace. Thinking.

The next two months, I spent finding, buying, renovating and furnishing a condo here at Ao Nang Beach. Adventure.

Then, exactly one month ago today, I was getting out of the Andaman Sea after a great swim, my knee popped, I could barely walk, and several days later I was recovering from knee surgery. Aging.

The meaning of the Time song
Music always causes me to pause and think.
When we are young, we don’t notice time passing, yet time is finite.

“Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day…”
“And then one day you find ten years have got behind you”

You wake up at 60 and wonder, “where did the time go?”

For too long, we just settle with what’s in front of us. A job that’s “fine,” a relationship that’s “okay,” a life that’s “good enough.”

“Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way” 

A direct nod to Thoreau, it describes men who never fully live.

We slow down when we age.

“And you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it’s sinking” 

We have less energy, our breath shortens.
Curiosity fades if it isn’t used. It loses intensity if we stop exposing ourselves to new ideas, if we repeat the same routines.
When life is predictable – same gym, same friends, same news sources, same restaurants, same conversations, same point of view – we are in maintenance mode, and curiosity dies. Curiosity drives us to explore, evolve, take risks, write, question, or change.

Time passes when we delay our plans.

“Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines” 

The slow accumulation of unrealized intentions – ideas we talk about at dinner, projects sitting in an outline, businesses never launched, books almost written, fitness routines that begin next week, goals for next year. Folders full of unexecuted plans.
That lyric is about procrastination disguised as preparation, thinking instead of deciding, planning instead of committing, waiting instead of executing.

The song is a wake-up call that I find motivational as hell.
It reminds us to stop bullshitting ourselves and recognize time is not infinite.
The good news is we still have time no matter what our age.

David Foster Wallace
I became more interested in David Foster Wallace after I saw The End of the Tour, a 2015 American biographical drama film based on David Lipsky’s memoir of a five-day road trip he had with Wallace.

Born in 1962, David Foster Wallace was a brilliant American writer and professor who published novels, short stories, and essays. He wrote about the heaviness of our minds, from inside the human condition. His powerful themes hit hard for men over 50.

He suffered severe biological, treatment-resistant depression, and, in 2008, he wrote a suicide note to his wife and hung himself on the back porch of his house. He was 46.

Many of his ideas are relevant for men:
- Freedom is choosing what to think about – choosing what to pay attention to.
- The mind as a prison – the real hell is being trapped inside the prison of yourself.
- Addiction is not about pleasure – it’s about escape from pain, shame, boredom.
- Entertainment is anesthesia – decades ago he noticed people are distracting themselves to death.
- Loneliness is a pain point of modern life – people are desperate for connection, but hide behind irony, achievement, and distraction.
- The quiet, internal ache of men – fear of irrelevance, pressure to perform, dread of aging, feeling your inner life is invisible to everyone.

Here are two of his books I’ve enjoyed:
This Is Water, his views on life from the commencement address he gave in 2005 at Kenyon College. It’s a small, very short book.
Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, a short story collection. Dark, hilarious, bizarre, leftfield, illuminating observations and stories.

Beach Condo – Man Cave
Call me crazy, but I bought a second condo in Thailand.

Or maybe it’s not crazy. Even before the Boogie Bar episode and Time ambush, my muse, soul, subconscious mind, antennae, or something was telling me to spend more time at the beach. This California kid needs the beach.

Time is ticking away, increasingly feeling like a scarce commodity. It keeps going faster.

This condo is a great place to write. Looking out at the sea, beaches, jungles, limestone cliffs, and mountains opens new avenues of thought, expanded thinking, imagination, reflection. Awe inspires creativity. It’s almost weird.

Men need a place to retreat to, to sit, think, cogitate, alone. Man Cave.

Knee surgery
And then, one evening, when I was almost done with all the condo work, after a great ocean swim, I was walking out of the water, stepped on some weird shit, unconsciously jerked my leg up, and my knee blew, like literally. I couldn’t walk. I knew I had a serious knee problem before that, but I was procrastinating on seeing a doctor.

So, I did the smart thing. I slowly, painfully limped to the closest bar, ordered a double shot of Jägermeister and a beer, downed both in roughly 10 seconds, limped to the nearby Tuk Tuk stand, and a kind woman drove me to the emergency room at nearby Wattanapat Hospital (Krabi).

The next day, I was on a flight to Chiang Mai to see an orthopedic surgeon at Bangkok Hospital. Two days later, I had knee surgery. My third left-knee surgery in 12 years. The surgeon, who I like very much, told me there’s a lot of degeneration in my knee. Oh, come on man, I’m only 66 years old. What the hell, dude.

My meniscus had a “bucket handle tear” that got stuck in a flipped-up position. Trust me, very painful.
Let’s face it, our knees were created with some serious design flaws.

Things are much better now. I can walk normally…for now at least.
Both of my knee surgeons told me knee-replacement is an eventuality for me.

Conclusion
It’s crazy how one song can inspire you when you really listen to the lyrics.
I knew I’d start writing again. The Time song was a grab in the gut that said “Now!”

Both Pink Floyd and David Foster Wallace remind us the danger isn’t dying – it’s drifting.

My plan, for now anyways, is to split my time between Chiang Mai and Krabi (Ao Nang Beach) when I’m not traveling.

In May-June, I’ll be traveling around the U.S. before heading back to Thailand.

All the best to you, my friends.
Peter