The emergency broadcast system has always been something of a mystery to me. The odd, modem-like noises coming from the tv and radio, the ominous voice trying to assure us that this is only a test, or even the color bars and dead air time that seem so out of place at our current pace of life.
Yet, programs are still interrupted and the process remains preserved. We may laugh or change the channel, but for that still moment we listen to the interruption and wonder at it’s significance.
I wonder other things too.
I wonder if I can stop other things just like that. I wonder if I can make the kinds of guttural noises that I am feeling in order to get others to look up from what they are doing and pay attention. I wonder if I can broadcast loud enough the need to pause and reassess what we have just seen and been through and decide if we care to continue.
To the conversations I have been having about my future: This is a test, only a test.
To the friends who seem to just be hanging on to me out of obligation: This is a test, only a test.
To the pressure I feel to provide for my family: This is a test, only a test.
To the technology I often crave: This is a test, only a test.
To the short term debt I know is coming to preserve my current lifestyle: This is a test, only a test.
To never having enough time to write music, go to independent movie theaters, or exercise: This is a test, only a test.
Let there be a pause, if only for one day, of all of these things. Then let’s see what is still worthwhile tomorrow.
