Dirtbag Manifesto

Every sport has the iconic die-hard grand masters that absolutely love what they do.  They are the climbing dirtbags, the ski and snowboard bums, the surfer bums. They spend nearly all of their time doing their sport, living on the road, living in their vans and sleeping under the piers. They don’t have a rent, don’t own a shirt and tie, aren’t tied to a day job, and sometimes don’t even know where their next meal is going to come from.  And while they seemingly don’t have a “life direction” or some false sense of security that their pay is secure and their supermarket meal is always there, these are the people who are content to have nothing and live every moment of life to its fullest.

How is it that these people, living on the fringe of existence, seemingly have nothing and everything at the same time?!  They stand defiant, waving their fist at society’s promises of longevity, security, happiness, and a promise of “retirement.”  What is their secret?  Is it that these people are free? Monetarily speaking the answer is no. They don’t own nice things, and they can hardly afford gas money to get around. How is it that they can be so damn fulfilled?  They are the rebels against the American dream, having already attained their happiness and still have time left over to enjoy it too.

Is it even that their passion for their sport gives them more happiness or more enjoyment than those who participate casually or with slightly less neuroticism?  I would again say that the answer is no.  These people thrive in the most extreme times when no normal or sane person could possibly enjoy another set, another turn, or another pitch.  That is not fun, I don’t care who you are, no matter how much you claim to love what you do. So at least in part it seems the peak experience of the dirtbag is no greater than that of the layperson.

The secret to their happiness lies not in better quality of experience, but rather in greater satisfaction they draw from lower quality experiences.  The last run of the day where all there is left to ski are moguls, the last died out set of waves as the tide rolls out, the last outdoor climb of the season as the snow starts rolling in, are all the types of poorer quality experiences that most people are happy to miss out on. Yet here come the dirtbags just as excited as ever, enjoying every moment as if THIS was the best run of their lives.

The difference here is the embodiment of what I am calling the Lo-Fi movement.  You guessed it.  Lo-Fi is short for Low Fidelity. (And no, we’re not talking about relationships here)  Low fidelity described the sound quality of the technology recording performances by the likes of Louis Armstrong and Duke Elington, whose mastery in performance contrasted so ironically to the arbitrarily “low” quality playback of recording devices of the era.  Lo-Fi is the forgotten child of yesteryear, born out of a need to delineate a difference between it and what was considered “better’ or High Fidelity.  Before improvements in technology came along everything already was Lo-Fi, but people didn’t bitch about it.  Once Hi-Fi came on the scene, however, people just couldn’t wait to get their hands on the latest and greatest.

The paradigm shift for the Lo-Fi movement occurs as an attitude change that stems from a realization that “modern” society, whose capitalist underpinnings drive the disease of materialism and the vocal absurdity that is aptly named marketing, fails to bring the happiness that it promises to provide.  It’s not that the system is broken either, it never worked in the first place!  I'm not just talking about democracy here, rather, those who equate democracy and capitalism and are incapable of experiencing the happiness they are in pursuit of. They spend all their time chasing the carrot, running on the hamster wheel, not realizing that the search for higher quality experiences and higher quality things is an exercise in futility.  This is where the dirtbags shine. What they have realized isn’t that the happiness comes from inanimate things or even objects but that happiness is a choice and it come from within.  The realization of fulfillment in life comes after learning that your expectations cannot meet your needs unless your needs meet your expectations.

Am I arguing that everyone needs to lower their expectations and standards in order to be happy? Yes and no.  If you fail to engage reality on a timeframe exclusive of the past then you run the risk of having your desires mismatch your satisfaction (that means don’t judge anything, including yourself, too harshly! You never know the full story…)  We are all slaves in our society, but society knows that it cannot control us and yet we do not deny it control.  Its power comes solely from the credence we lend to it and the desires it says we should have.  In the words of Bob Marley, “none but ourselves can free our minds.”  It doesn’t matter where you stand in society, top, bottom, front, or back, the question remains. Do your desires control you, or do you control your desires?

Lo-Fi Declaration:

I’m not claiming that I have all of the answers, but I am fed up with the stupidity of materialism and I’m sick and tired of striving, striving for something, to be something or someone better than what is in front of me right now!  I revel in the perfection of my imperfection! I am going to appreciate every moment I have and enjoy everything that I can as if it’s my new favorite hobby. I am going to secretly rage against the broken system and stand on the fringe telling anyone who will listen. I am going to appreciate every deep and dark emotion that wells up inside of me just because I can, and stand along side of those who are just as jaded and disappointed in the lies we’ve been taught on TV.  I am going to be excited to be alive, to do what I love, and love what I do.  I am going to treasure the quality of all things outside of the metric of my own desires. I will be happy to be free, and free to be happy!

Update:

I'm taking the subject of this post and dedicating it to a new blog HERE: It will consist of essays and anecdotes about all things dirtbag. If you would like to make a contribution, I would love to work with you on publishing it. Contact me via email: mikeminson at gmail!