In physics, scientists have to account for the observer effect—that is, the observation of something fundamentally changes its state. This is particularly important in the study of quantum mechanics. A common example for us lay people is taking a tire pressure—doing so reduces the tire’s pressure. Likewise, in physics, observing non-luminous material typically requires the introduction of light, which changes the state of the original material.
Of late, I’ve noticed my family members saying things like, “Great, that will probably wind up in one of Dad’s stories” or in Lauren’s case, “Anytime something happens, I assume it will go in one of Dad’s stories.” Which begs the question, is everyone around me acting different since I committed to writing down some pieces of my life daily? It’s not like I have a million followers—each of my posts gets maybe twenty or thirty reads, primarily from friends and family, and mostly my plan is to pass a collection of them on to my kids. The old Latter-day Saint journaling thing.
Of course, the act of observing and writing changes all sorts of things. Writing even a personal journal is a performance, especially if you have been taught to believe that you should do so for your posterity—what and how you record events becomes a performance for the unseen audience. My religion even encourages this—it suggests that we make our journals be inspirational.
There’s power in being a known creator, though. In his song “Rich Spirit,” Kendrick Lamar warned, “Stop playin wit me ‘fore I turn you to a song.” (Hey, academics! Poetry is not dead—its best creators are writing rap, and Kendrick Lamar should be poet laureate of the United States forever and ever. I said what I said.) When Taylor Swift started dating Travis Kelce, Internet creators mocked her tendency to write breakup songs about her exes by putting out breakup songs for the two (here’s another)—this before their dating was really even confirmed. Sheesh, talk about observation changing something. Even better, Taylor has already acknowledged the backlash (and the backlash against the backlash) by writing, “It’s me, I’m the problem,” some of the first lyrics of which are “I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror.” See how that is both reflexive and reflective in many senses of both words? (See what I did there?)
I shared my hunting story with my friend Abby who is referenced in it. I wrote the conversation as best as I remembered it, though what I recalled most was how her father didn’t do stand or still hunting, just drove around in his truck till he saw a deer. We then had the following text conversation. (I’m pretty sure I conflated him with a local farmer I’ve talked to in Massachusetts.)
This text exchange was going on as we walked Dobby. Lauren asked me what was happening, I told her, and she said, “I always assume you are taking liberties with whatever story you write.”
See how powerful we creators are? Mess with me and I could turn you into a story that could go viral to, like, one hundred people. Knowing that, though, you’re probably going to act differently toward and around me. But you shouldn’t because I always tell the truth. Just like Kendrick, the great truth teller of our times. Which reminds me of his very next lyric in “Rich Spirit,” which I hereby adopt as totally true for this creator and not altered at all by observation: “Bitch, I’m attractive.”
His Smile Lit Up a Room and Other Things to Say at My Funeral 