Why I didn't Take 'er Easy Sunday

after the flash-mob, i was exiting pearl's with travis (they're open on sundays now!), and saw someone i knew. i mean, sort of knew. it was a starbucks barista i used to see on my way to work. those days, i would hit prima fila in the morning and starbucks just before the office. and this guy worked there like 9 days a week.

we would bitch about our jobs in different ways and then head back to those jobs. and eventually, he started giving me my drinks for free.

i hadn't been to starbucks since being fired, and i can't say i miss it. but i was glad to see this barista because i knew him and because he was hacky-sacking. hacky-sacking. if you've known me more than two years, you've likely hacky-sacked with me. some of us used to spend four hours after high school, hacking in the quad, or the middle of the street.

actually, the day we all graduated from high school, the cupertino courier put us on the front page: three of us were hacking in our graduation gowns.

but when i moved to san francisco, i slowly stopped hacky-sacking. i packed one for the move, but it hardly got used. there is no such thing as open-space in the city. our old quad is practically the size of union square-- except union square is cluttered with tourists (and sometimes michael jacksons) and there's a big useless monument in the center of it all, taking up extra space.

so it just happened less and less until i basically stopped.

but the guy from starbucks was hacking with his friend! i'm glad i know this guy.

we immediately joined in, ignoring the rules regarding the need for open space-- the sidewalk would do because this had to happen. this is when i feel most like spiderman and it's something that i need to do regularly. it's my meditation. if you've ever witnessed someone drop their cell phone and proceed to do an amazingly fast soccer-esque kick, punting the cell phone-- you've seen an off-duty hacker. you probably wondered, "why on earth did that man just drop-kick his own phone?" but it flows in our blood like a drug. when we don't hack, it finds a way to make us anyway. the second something drops, and is suspended in air-- waiting for gravity to do its thang-- our super-powered hacking legs come flying toward the object, hoping to alter its path and save it from damage.

it works 19% of the time.

but hacky-sacking addresses that beast.

we hacked until our shoelaces came untied. and then we hacked some more. and throughout it all, we discovered there were three basic ways a pedestrian would react to the event as they passed. with the exception of the, very rare, fourth method which consisted of entering the street and walking on the opposite of a parked car.

for those of you unfamiliar with a hacky-sack (or footbag), there are several types-- i once tried to invent the glow-in-the-dark hack, but it already existed-- and the type we were using was a dirtbag. it's a small, apricot-sized, soft leather bag sewn around about four tablespoons of sand (it's mostly empty). the dirtbag is like the hummingbird of hacky-sacks: light-weight and small, while being amazingly accurate and maneuverable. it's a very gentle bag.

yet, some citizens became infuriated by the act and acted as though it were a grenade if it landed anywhere near them. or like we were kicking around a shot-put that would shatter their ribs if sent in the wrong direction. there was one family of three that passed between the four of we hackers and our sand-hack landed on the daughter's calf. the mother, who was on her cell phone, stopped the phone conversation to glare at us and say, "excuse me." we each apologized and she threw a more mad dawg glares at us before leaving.

i can agree that we were hacking in a somewhat impolite area-- given the confined space-- but it was interesting to see the different reactions to it. not everyone was upset by it.

in fact, the same thing could happen to an entirely different group of people who would feel the hack hit their lower leg and turn to say, "aw! i should've been there! sorry, guys!" and make a big joke of it all. sometimes, a lot of those people would join in and hack with us for a few moments-- saying they hadn't gotten to do it in years.

the other basic way people reacted to the event was by becoming very stiff-spined, while looking straight down-- eyes flinching-- and walking through the circle as quickly as possible. sometimes they would even apologize to us for having to do so. those type were the cutest and we all felt bad about it. they seemed so worried by it all. and so polite. i wanted to give them a high-five and tell them it's all going to be okay.

after a while, we started throwing the hack gently toward the feet of each passerby, hoping to invite them to play the same way handing someone sidewalk chalk might.

the reactions were mixed and it was hard to tell if the ones who ignored us felt like we had insulted them or thought we were playing a joke at their expense. but the laughers had a great time.

there was one lady who completely confused me because she sounded like she was joking, but her words seemed against the idea.

"jesus, really?" she turned to shout at us, "what are you? kids?"

"at least it's good exercise!" i shouted back.

"yeah but my kid plays that," she yelled as she continued down the street, "and he's, like, 10 years-old."

"you should bring him over!" i yelled, "we can practice and then he'll be really good when he's our age."

it was hard to tell if that was a wit-battle or if it was an unhappy lecture, but i enjoyed it nonetheless and i'm sure the stranger did as well.

anyway, after hours of hacking, we had something like a 2.5 person audience enjoying the happening. you could hear them gently cheer for tough kicks or last-minute saves-- they were having a good time. one of the times we threw the hack to an oncoming stranger and they joined in. our 2.5 person audience laughed and celebrated. finally someone joined!

we continued at it, not even stopping to smoke cigarettes. i mean we smoked them-- we smoked two-- but we didn't stop playing while we smoked. and it was great exhausting fun. i explained to the barista (matt) that i'd been fired from my job after a series of antics and stopped going to starbucks. then we all discussed why people hated hackers so much.

"if hacky sacking could cure cancer," i said, "or global warming, people would love it."

"like hack-for-cancer," travis added.

"susan komen was just out here," matt joked, "she loved us!"

"we should do that," i said, "hack to raise money for cancer research. i mean no one could argue that. and if they did, they love cancer and nobody does."

shortly afterward, a shop owner came to open his cafe and eyeballed us in a manner that must've meant "leave." one of the audience members turned out to be his friend-- who seemed to have enjoyed our existence-- but we left anyway.

oh and, the offer stands. i don't have a job right now-- i don't have any major time commitments-- i'll hack for cancer. everyone wins that way and no one is offended by the act of hacky sacking. eh? eh?

let me know the details, and we'll get this rolling.