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Where Knowledge Junkies Get Their Fix
We recently had the sidewalks torn up and redone in my neighborhood, and since then I’ve been finding lots of new sidewalk graffiti, mostly of the written-while-the-concrete-was-still-wet persuasion. By far the most existential-crisis-inducing, however, was this gem:
It was a rude awakening, to say the least.
Have you ever written anything on the sidewalk?
Bonus question: do you exist?
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I haven’t written anything, but my pets have, in a way. When our driveway was poured, my two cats decided it would be fund to prance through the wet concrete and leave tons of “kitty tracks” reminiscent of those dinosaur footprints found in the desert. Needless to say, no one wanted to go through the trouble of smoothing the driveway again, so we left them.
posted by bryn on 3-4-2008 at 7:39 am
Being a land surveyor, I have written many things on sidewalks in paint pertaining to my work. Of course this is about as exciting as…er…watching paint dry. If I were to create my own sidewalk graffiti it would be something along the lines of “Two days from today tomorrow will be yesterday.”
As for the bonus question, I exist in my own consciousness and in the consciousness of those who wish to acknowledge my existence. I believe we each chose who exists in our world and who does not. To me, being able to see past the faceless mob and acknowledge the existence of others is the difference between mere existence and truly being alive…
Now my head hurts. I’ve not had enough caffeine this morning to be thoughtful.
posted by KevinS on 3-4-2008 at 7:50 am
About 25 years ago, part of the sidewalk was being replaced in front of our house. My siblings and I put our names in it when the workers left.
– They came back and smoothed it out.
We went out and put our names in again.
- They came back and smoothed it out again.
We went out and put our names in again.
- They came back, smoothed it out, and left one of their workers there to keep watch.
posted by It's good to be the King on 3-4-2008 at 8:25 am
Nothing blogworthy, really, and certainly not existential crisis inducing. But when my parents were building a new house when I was three, I put some tiny boot prints in the new sidewalk, and scratched something that resembled my name.
posted by Steve on 3-4-2008 at 8:27 am
I don’t think writing in chalk counts, therefore I shall go with no, I have not. They always covered the wet sidewalks with plastic before we could get to them. I’m not certain if I exist, nor for that matter am I certain that you do. I enjoy the concept that everything is because we expect it to be. I expect to be, and therefore I am. Perhaps, though, to others I am not. So do I really exist? That depends on who you ask.
posted by Corinna Willsie-Gonzalez on 3-4-2008 at 8:30 am
Cogito cogito ergo cogito sum. – Ambrose Bierce
:)
posted by caitlen315 on 3-4-2008 at 8:46 am
I exist. It’s the sidewalk I’m not so sure about.
posted by Bill T. on 3-4-2008 at 9:11 am
I first suspected I didn’t exist when I realized the old saw, “Wherever you go, there you are,” did not apply to me. It’s nice to finally have closure.
posted by Li on 3-4-2008 at 9:37 am
Yes, I put my initials and date in new sidewalks all over Rhawnhurst.
As an adult I’ve spray painted markings in streets in cities like New York, San Francisco, Philadelphia and Richmond. Mostly the marks I made told tent guys where to put a tent or porta potty guys where to drop portable toilets.
posted by fixedgear on 3-4-2008 at 9:53 am
My sisters and I put our names in some concrete my Dad poured.
As far as whether I exist, I would say there is no permanent self here.
posted by Scott on 3-4-2008 at 10:10 am
Well, Antoine de Saint Exupery would say that if anybody wants a sheep, that’s a proof that he exists.
Anybody want a sheep? Personally I always preferred the fox…
posted by erm on 3-4-2008 at 10:20 am
I think we can only exist if we are remembered by someone else. When those who remember us die, then we cease to exist.
posted by karen on 3-4-2008 at 10:47 am
Just act like wherever you are…that’s the place to be!
posted by Kevin on 3-4-2008 at 11:14 am
My parents dipped my feet in our back patio cement when I was less than a year old. They also wrote my name next to it. Interestingly, they changed how they spelled my name the next year, so the cement spelling is no longer accurate. But my little feet sure were cute. :)
posted by kate on 3-4-2008 at 11:32 am
At my brother’s elementary school (when he was in elementary school ten years ago), they had just poured new concrete stairs leading up to the main entryway. Someone had torn down the protective yellow ribbon blocking the entrance from being used. So my brother and I opened the door to exit, stepped right into the fresh concrete and left some nice footprints in their stairs! =)
posted by CK on 3-4-2008 at 11:33 am
I exist. It’s the rest of you I’m not so sure about. I have a pretty active imagination.
posted by Anthony on 3-4-2008 at 11:38 am
About 20 years ago, my dad did some work on the garage of the house we lived in at the time and he let my sister and I put our names in the concrete on the alley side of the garage. I now live about a mile from that house and last time I check, our names are still there.
posted by Julia on 3-4-2008 at 12:29 pm
“I exist. It’s the rest of you I’m not so sure about. I have a pretty active imagination.”
“The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some great ideas…”
posted by Li on 3-4-2008 at 1:15 pm
You and I do exist, but the bigger question is how do we know that we exist? How does the brain create the experience of consciousness?
Sorry – I’ve been studying for my Ph.D. qualifying exams for too long…
posted by Alicia on 3-4-2008 at 1:25 pm
if you think that you don’t exist, try missing a car payment…
posted by the creature on 3-4-2008 at 1:38 pm
When pondering whether you or not you exist, you must first ask yourself two questions:
1) Are you on the USS Enterprise?
2) Are you wearing a red shirt?
posted by Kevin on 3-4-2008 at 2:16 pm
I scratched the date into my neighbors garage floor after it was poured as new construction. I think he kind of likes it.
Bonus answer: “I drink, therefore I am.”
posted by Flip on 3-4-2008 at 3:00 pm
No I didn’t scratch anything in cement that I can remember. But there used to be a message on the sidewalk in my college town that has stuck in my brain. It said: “Bosco Beeks is back in town!”
One of my writing teachers brought it up in class, even!
Anyone see it? Eugene, Oregon
posted by Lauren on 3-4-2008 at 4:15 pm
I didn’t write anything in the sidewalk, but I did use a stick to scratch my name on a wooden bridge in Maui when I was 6. My older sister promptly convinced me it was against the law and if I got caught I would go to jail, causing me to run back crying to our vacation rental, terrified she would tell. For the rest of the trip, and quite a while after, I felt horribly guilty.
posted by Leah on 3-4-2008 at 4:43 pm
It seems that everyone is always searching for their own identity and once this is found, creating a stable environment for it to flourish and outlive its creator remains the only task. I am a solipsism enthusiast with existentialism issues. For those of you who are unaware solipsism is the belief that your brain/ or you are the only thing that exists and everything else is created by you. But I am not vain enough to beleive myself the creator. I am but a figment of someone elses subconcious and when he finally hears his alarm clock life will have been but a dream.
Sincerely,
A brain in a vat…
posted by Jon Kenny on 3-4-2008 at 4:43 pm
This may not be so related, but at college we had a sidewalk with a misshapen section we affectionately called the “potato.” It was rumored that it had mystical powers, like you shouldn’t walk on it before taking a test, etc. After some repaving, the school removed the potato. For an entire generation of students we tried our hardest to trace it out in chalk to keep the tradition alive.
posted by Lucas on 3-4-2008 at 5:58 pm
i shop therefore i am.
i dont think it matters if we exist or not. i once wrote my initials in the cement, but even water and stone isnt as permanent as some might think.
posted by shannon on 3-4-2008 at 10:04 pm
When the sidewalks were replaced in front of my apt I wrote “Metallica” in the wet cement. I once overheard some people in a bar using it as a landmark to find another bar…I felt proud.
I must exist, who else could have wrote Metallica in the sidewalk?
posted by C.J. on 3-5-2008 at 12:54 am
I exist. Some people find that unacceptable. When those people have shit-fits about my existence, and argue with people who approve of my existence, it becomes even more evident that I exist.
posted by Tdave on 3-5-2008 at 1:14 am
I don’t exist, but I put up a fairly good semblance of existence.
posted by Aemi on 3-5-2008 at 6:50 am
A few weeks after I started dating my soon-to-be husband, he invited me on a walk across campus. On the way, we came across a newly-cemented area of sidewalk (right in front of the new student center). He had written our names in the concrete. At that point I was completely freaked out!! How could he have guessed that we would still be Mike & Rachel 10 years later? It was terrifyingly sweet.
posted by Laura on 3-5-2008 at 8:34 am
i used to be scared to death of getting wet concrete on my skin. WHAT IF IT HARDENS!? HOW DO YOU GET THAT OFF!?
posted by Katie on 3-5-2008 at 9:14 am
Never had many opportunities to write in wet concrete but when I was fairly young I remember reading an article wherein a concrete company reprimanded a daycare or something for making this into an art activity– making handprints and such. The company said that concrete has some nasty chemicals in it and that it was reprehensible to encourage kids to play with it.
Wouldn’t want that s*** on my hands or shoes anyway.
Bonus question: Are you asking if you think I think I exist or are you asking me to prove it to you. If the former, yes; if the latter, make me.
posted by Andie on 3-5-2008 at 9:54 am
If I don’t exist, then who are you talking to? :)
posted by Erin on 3-5-2008 at 4:18 pm
Short of sidewalk chalking, I’ve never really left my mark on the pavement. Which makes me feel vaguely left out of the fun…
I believe I exist; I have debt, therefore, I MUST be buying things, and I must exist to shop. Right?
posted by kitsana_d on 3-5-2008 at 4:51 pm
Wait, that makes that seem like I ONLY exist to shop, which is not true!
posted by kitsana_d on 3-5-2008 at 4:52 pm
No, as a matter of fact, I don’t!
posted by Pointy-Hatted Geek on 3-5-2008 at 7:51 pm
…
posted by Jordan on 3-5-2008 at 7:52 pm
I’ve done the scratching in concrete thing a few times, and have enabled my kids to do it a few times also. A number of years ago I was putting in a fence & used some of the leftover concrete mix to make stepping stones that the kids each customized as they saw fit. Very cool little memory makers; each of them remember something specific about their “step” and the time we made them.
As for the bonus question, yes, I do exist and so do you. Reading through the comments, it’s apparent that many confuse existence with significance; we all exist, but not all of us lead lives of significance outside a small group of people with whom you relate. It’s nothing to be ashamed of; just the way things work.
Anyone who doubts his existence need only sprint down the corridor of a busy US airport yelling “ALLAH ACHBAR!” Do that and your existence will be quickly acknowledged by many.
posted by Dave on 3-6-2008 at 7:48 am