on expectations

maybe there's a creative class brewing that would be able to support (barely) dudes in bands for the rest of their lives. if hipsters never choose to grow up and end up becoming career wait staff and/or career fairly unheard of artists or musicians, but the waiters keep going to the shows and the artists keep going to the bars, then they could become a self-sustaining economy that could keep going indefinitely. people could live like that for the rest of their lives, barely scraping the bottom, but keeping themselves reasonably comfortable, and still enjoying their lives. never giving in to convention, never taking that fear-of-never-having-nice-things driven retreat into the utterly disappointing compromise for comfort that is middle-class zombieism. comfort is the enemy.