by Ian Rygiel | May 29, 2014 | Ian's Blog
I’ve always enjoyed sitting in dive bars. I’m not talking about the hipster-chic types, where yuppies can safely slum it, but the taverns, bars and pubs found in working towns across the country. The places with dark wood, stained even darker from years of cigarette smoke and contact from countless bodies. There’s a level of comfort I’ve found in these sacred places. No matter what town or state they’re in, they feel familiar. Populated by workers, regulars, and professional drinkers, these bars are the new campfire. Looking around at the introspective gazes of the patrons, it’s easy to find the ones who have lived their lives, experienced the world, and basked in success and failure alike. They’ve got story after story, and while they might seem as world weary as everyone else, their eyes are alive. The most common of these stories is the “if only…” tale. The lottery ticket that was almost a big win… The sport that could have led to a professional contract… The business that would have made millions… …if only… And if there is one thing I’ve learned from sitting in these bars, it’s there is no shame in the “if only…” story. The shame comes from only have one. After listening to these modern day bards wax poetic, it’s not long before I’m feeling restless again. Picking myself up, I’m ready to leave the stale air behind, venture out into the world, and continue writing my own story. This way, if the day ever comes when I’ve settled into just one bar in just one town, I’ll have a few of my own...
by Ian Rygiel | Mar 23, 2014 | Ian's Blog, The Poorgeoisie
For as long as I can remember, the American Dream was tangible: Get an education, work hard, and prosper. It was simple. It was straightforward. It was fair. It was American. And in my experience, it’s all we 20, and now 30, -somethings wanted. Yet, here I am, and very likely, here you are. We’re killing ourselves in dead-end jobs. We work in warehouses, in the back of trucks, and behind grills. We wait tables, we pour coffee, and we live paycheck to paycheck with bachelor and masters degrees that we earned by placing ourselves in crippling debt. We are a generation of highly capable and motivated individuals. We are highly educated. We appreciate high culture, art, and music, yet our paychecks barely leave our encouraged champagne tastes within our beer budgets. It should come to no one’s surprise then, that we are a highly transient and restless generation. We are a generation yearning for the challenges we were trained to face. We want to work, and we want a fair wage for that work, yet both have been denied to us. We are the lost and forgotten. We are the discarded. We are the poorgeoisie....
