Part 1 of 7
Curiosity
only causes more questions,
so stop while ahead.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Pushing when you should pull...
In visiting one of my favorite restaurants with my family, I proceeded to go in the side door, because that is the door you go in. Especially if you park in the side parking lot. It just makes sense. Side door. Side parking lot.
As we got to the door I saw a sign, not small but not large, that said, "Please enter through the front door to be seated." It was chilly outside and as my mother and brother rushed up behind me I informed them that we, very inconveniently in the cold, had to walk around to the front.
Once inside, the waitress seated us in the back room. We were a few feet from the door we had wanted to come in. We always go in and out that way, but now it is tightly shut and bolted, and with that sign...there should be no confusion. Well, there was. A lot , actually. And we witnessed it throughout the course of our meal (pun not intended). I guess old habits really do die hard.
As we sat there we saw several groups of people approach. The first was an old woman who walked up. Twisted the doorknob. Pushed. Pulled. Repeat. Leaned over and looked in the window, where we motioned to her that she needed to go to the front. Mind you: She could have simply read the sign. The second was a mom with two teenage children. They walked up. Twisted the doorknob. Pushed. Finally read the sign. Walked to the front. The third was a group of ladies. Sadly, even collectively, it took them about 20 seconds to read the words right in front of them. This 20 seconds was filled with the same actions listed above. Then, two big guys walked up. They jiggled the handle. They pushed. My brother and I sat there and mumbled about their inability to, again, simply read. And, moments later, the door blew open. They had, in their frustrations, broken down the door. This startled me, obviously. But, it also made me think.
How is it possible that so many people can be given signs...words right in front of their faces...and continuously ignore them? The words were placed there in order to simplify things for customers, but instead it just caused them frustration and, seemingly, mental anguish because they tried to do things their own way and, caught up in a habit, could not stop to take a second to read...to assess the situation.
Maybe that's how things are though. Not just with doors (I know I am not the only one that has unsuccessfully tried to push the "pull"), but with bigger things. How many times is the sign right in front of us, whether delivered verbally or through gut intuition or by any other sensory manner, and we ignore it? Maybe if we go about business as usual we can force it. I swear we just went through this door the other day, so it shouldn't be a problem. It must just be stuck...maybe if we push it hard enough. All the while, the sign is right there...telling us what we need to do. But we are stubborn. We don't see it. We don't hear it. Or maybe we don't truly see...or listen. We don't want to rely on outside help. We don't want to accept answers we don't come up with ourselves. But why? Why do we spend time time trying to break down the door, when maybe it's easier to accept the sign at face value and walk?
As we got to the door I saw a sign, not small but not large, that said, "Please enter through the front door to be seated." It was chilly outside and as my mother and brother rushed up behind me I informed them that we, very inconveniently in the cold, had to walk around to the front.
Once inside, the waitress seated us in the back room. We were a few feet from the door we had wanted to come in. We always go in and out that way, but now it is tightly shut and bolted, and with that sign...there should be no confusion. Well, there was. A lot , actually. And we witnessed it throughout the course of our meal (pun not intended). I guess old habits really do die hard.
As we sat there we saw several groups of people approach. The first was an old woman who walked up. Twisted the doorknob. Pushed. Pulled. Repeat. Leaned over and looked in the window, where we motioned to her that she needed to go to the front. Mind you: She could have simply read the sign. The second was a mom with two teenage children. They walked up. Twisted the doorknob. Pushed. Finally read the sign. Walked to the front. The third was a group of ladies. Sadly, even collectively, it took them about 20 seconds to read the words right in front of them. This 20 seconds was filled with the same actions listed above. Then, two big guys walked up. They jiggled the handle. They pushed. My brother and I sat there and mumbled about their inability to, again, simply read. And, moments later, the door blew open. They had, in their frustrations, broken down the door. This startled me, obviously. But, it also made me think.
How is it possible that so many people can be given signs...words right in front of their faces...and continuously ignore them? The words were placed there in order to simplify things for customers, but instead it just caused them frustration and, seemingly, mental anguish because they tried to do things their own way and, caught up in a habit, could not stop to take a second to read...to assess the situation.
Maybe that's how things are though. Not just with doors (I know I am not the only one that has unsuccessfully tried to push the "pull"), but with bigger things. How many times is the sign right in front of us, whether delivered verbally or through gut intuition or by any other sensory manner, and we ignore it? Maybe if we go about business as usual we can force it. I swear we just went through this door the other day, so it shouldn't be a problem. It must just be stuck...maybe if we push it hard enough. All the while, the sign is right there...telling us what we need to do. But we are stubborn. We don't see it. We don't hear it. Or maybe we don't truly see...or listen. We don't want to rely on outside help. We don't want to accept answers we don't come up with ourselves. But why? Why do we spend time time trying to break down the door, when maybe it's easier to accept the sign at face value and walk?
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
For those of us who have ever missed the boat...
there's Modest Mouse.
While we're on the subject,
could we change the subject now?
I was knocking on your ears.
Don't worry, you were always out.
Looking towards the future,
we were begging for the past.
Well, we know we had the good things,
but those never seemed to last.
Oh, please just last.
Everyone's unhappy.
Everyone's ashamed.
Well, we all just got caught looking
at somebody else's page.
Well, nothing ever went
quite exactly as we planned.
Our ideas held no water,
but we used them like a dam.
Oh, and we carried it all so well.
As if we got a new position.
Oh, and I laugh all the way to hell.
Saying, "Yes, this is a fine promotion."
Oh, and I laugh all the way to hell.
Of course everyone goes crazy
over such and such and such.
We made ourselves a pillar,
but we just used it as a crutch.
We were certainly uncertain.
At least I'm pretty sure I am.
Well, we didn't need the water,
but we just built that good goddamn.
Oh, and I know this of myself.
I'd assume as much for other people.
Oh, and I know this of myself.
We've listened more to life's end gong
than the sound of life's sweet bells.
Was it ever worth it?
Was there all that much to gain?
Well, we knew we'd missed the boat
and we'd already missed the plane.
We didn't read the invite.
We just danced at our own wake.
All our favorites were playing
so we could shake, shake, shake, shake, shake.
Tiny curtains opened and we heard the tiny clap of little hands.
A tiny man would tell a little joke and get a tiny laugh from all the folks
sitting, drifting around in bubbles and thinking it was us that carried them,
when we finally got it figured out that we had truly missed the boat.
Oh, and we carried it all so well.
As if we got a new position.
Oh, and we owned all the tools ourselves.
But not the skills to make a shelf with.
Oh, what useless tools ourselves.
While we're on the subject,
could we change the subject now?
I was knocking on your ears.
Don't worry, you were always out.
Looking towards the future,
we were begging for the past.
Well, we know we had the good things,
but those never seemed to last.
Oh, please just last.
Everyone's unhappy.
Everyone's ashamed.
Well, we all just got caught looking
at somebody else's page.
Well, nothing ever went
quite exactly as we planned.
Our ideas held no water,
but we used them like a dam.
Oh, and we carried it all so well.
As if we got a new position.
Oh, and I laugh all the way to hell.
Saying, "Yes, this is a fine promotion."
Oh, and I laugh all the way to hell.
Of course everyone goes crazy
over such and such and such.
We made ourselves a pillar,
but we just used it as a crutch.
We were certainly uncertain.
At least I'm pretty sure I am.
Well, we didn't need the water,
but we just built that good goddamn.
Oh, and I know this of myself.
I'd assume as much for other people.
Oh, and I know this of myself.
We've listened more to life's end gong
than the sound of life's sweet bells.
Was it ever worth it?
Was there all that much to gain?
Well, we knew we'd missed the boat
and we'd already missed the plane.
We didn't read the invite.
We just danced at our own wake.
All our favorites were playing
so we could shake, shake, shake, shake, shake.
Tiny curtains opened and we heard the tiny clap of little hands.
A tiny man would tell a little joke and get a tiny laugh from all the folks
sitting, drifting around in bubbles and thinking it was us that carried them,
when we finally got it figured out that we had truly missed the boat.
Oh, and we carried it all so well.
As if we got a new position.
Oh, and we owned all the tools ourselves.
But not the skills to make a shelf with.
Oh, what useless tools ourselves.
Monday, October 15, 2007
“Nothing gets past ol’ eagle eye…”
Somehow, this is how I am seen at work. I am known, at least to the individual quoted above, as a person with keen attention to detail. A person that observes closely. A person that lets nothing past them. But, in the lingering of this co-worker's words in my head I realized that, although this may be true in a purely professional sense, it is not currently applicable personally or creatively.
I feel that, sometimes, quite a lot gets by me. I have been feeling that way especially when it comes to any sort of creative outlet. I let events and snippets that spark a thought...that could be elaborated on...just pass by.
For me, looking at this blog is disappointing. Every once in a while I will hit the buttons on the side and suddenly I am transported, reading words from 2004, some of which I do not even remember writing. But, I look at the pages and pages of entries, where I found inspiration in the tiniest things, and I can look at myself now and it just feels like I am in a rut.
Is it that I have lost inspiration? No. Inspiration can be found in anything…from a late night conversation with a friend, to a song on the radio, to a current event, to a work meeting…which is what got my wheels spinning to begin with. Inspirational things are abundant, so what is it?
In looking at previous posts, most of them were during a time when I was in school and the majority of my jobs were work/study. Meaning that, after I loaded some 8.5 x 11 paper into the community printer, I was free to do whatever until I had to leave. So, I wrote. Now, I write for a living, sitting behind a computer from 8-5, so the last thing I want to do when I get home is write more. This attitude needs to change. The answer to the above question (“so what is it?” ) is simple: laziness and forgetfulness.
I have forgotten how much I enjoy writing. Finding humor and meaning in the little, seemingly insignificant things brings me happiness. Sharing a wonderful excerpt from someone else’s writing or lyrics from a song that has impacted me is exhilarating. And I think, for me, writing is what is missing right now. Granted, I have been writing, but it’s only been personal/for myself writing. The kind that comes slowly but surely. Bits and pieces coming together…like a jigsaw puzzle. Only right now, I barely have all of the edge pieces in a pile.
My imagination needs a jump start. Yes, I said that right. This is a need…not a want. A few weeks ago, upon visiting Hardin-Simmons, every professor I spoke with asked me the same question: Have you been writing? And other than some scrawlings here and there, on the backs of envelopes, on yellow sticky notes, on a legal pad in the bottom drawer of my desk, no…I haven’t. It’s sad because I feel so much better when I do. When I put something out there, even into this cyber no man’s land. So, here we go.
I feel that, sometimes, quite a lot gets by me. I have been feeling that way especially when it comes to any sort of creative outlet. I let events and snippets that spark a thought...that could be elaborated on...just pass by.
For me, looking at this blog is disappointing. Every once in a while I will hit the buttons on the side and suddenly I am transported, reading words from 2004, some of which I do not even remember writing. But, I look at the pages and pages of entries, where I found inspiration in the tiniest things, and I can look at myself now and it just feels like I am in a rut.
Is it that I have lost inspiration? No. Inspiration can be found in anything…from a late night conversation with a friend, to a song on the radio, to a current event, to a work meeting…which is what got my wheels spinning to begin with. Inspirational things are abundant, so what is it?
In looking at previous posts, most of them were during a time when I was in school and the majority of my jobs were work/study. Meaning that, after I loaded some 8.5 x 11 paper into the community printer, I was free to do whatever until I had to leave. So, I wrote. Now, I write for a living, sitting behind a computer from 8-5, so the last thing I want to do when I get home is write more. This attitude needs to change. The answer to the above question (“so what is it?” ) is simple: laziness and forgetfulness.
I have forgotten how much I enjoy writing. Finding humor and meaning in the little, seemingly insignificant things brings me happiness. Sharing a wonderful excerpt from someone else’s writing or lyrics from a song that has impacted me is exhilarating. And I think, for me, writing is what is missing right now. Granted, I have been writing, but it’s only been personal/for myself writing. The kind that comes slowly but surely. Bits and pieces coming together…like a jigsaw puzzle. Only right now, I barely have all of the edge pieces in a pile.
My imagination needs a jump start. Yes, I said that right. This is a need…not a want. A few weeks ago, upon visiting Hardin-Simmons, every professor I spoke with asked me the same question: Have you been writing? And other than some scrawlings here and there, on the backs of envelopes, on yellow sticky notes, on a legal pad in the bottom drawer of my desk, no…I haven’t. It’s sad because I feel so much better when I do. When I put something out there, even into this cyber no man’s land. So, here we go.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Hold me now...
by Jennifer Knapp
From glass alabaster she poured out the depth of her soul.
O foot of Christ would you wait if her harlotries known?
Falls a tear to darken the dirt
of humblest offerings to forgive the hurt.
She is strong enough to stand in your love.
I can hear her say....
I'm weak.
I'm poor.
I'm broken Lord
but I'm yours.
Hold me now.
Hold me now.
Let he without sin cast the first stone if you will.
To say that my bride isn't worth half the blood that I've spilled.
Point your finger and laugh if you choose
to say my beloved is borrowed and used.
She is strong enough to stand in my love.
I can hear her say....
I'm weak.
I'm poor.
I'm broken Lord
but I'm yours.
Hold me now.
Hold me now
From glass alabaster she poured out the depth of her soul.
O foot of Christ would you wait if her harlotries known?
Falls a tear to darken the dirt
of humblest offerings to forgive the hurt.
She is strong enough to stand in your love.
I can hear her say....
I'm weak.
I'm poor.
I'm broken Lord
but I'm yours.
Hold me now.
Hold me now.
Let he without sin cast the first stone if you will.
To say that my bride isn't worth half the blood that I've spilled.
Point your finger and laugh if you choose
to say my beloved is borrowed and used.
She is strong enough to stand in my love.
I can hear her say....
I'm weak.
I'm poor.
I'm broken Lord
but I'm yours.
Hold me now.
Hold me now
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
I am, I am, I am...
I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.
From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out.
I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out.
I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Art imitates life...or is it vice versa?
I want to loosely tie together 3 seemingly unrelatable things, that when listed together may seem even more improbable.
1. "Mr. Jones" by Counting Crows
2. Owen Wilson's recent suicide attempt
3. "Home" by Chris Daughtry
Though in my mind these two songs and the above current event from the celebrity world fit together seamlessly, picking apart the sciffywoo of my brain to adequately express it in a controlled manner is not the easiest task, but I will hit you with my best shot...and fire away.
Let's dissect...one at a time.
I love the Counting Crows. They are the first band I fell madly in love with and it was mostly because I had never heard music with a truly literary element. The depth of Adam Duritz's poetry, and the way that it is both deep and relevant to everyday life, still amazes me. Anyway, I am sure all of you have heard "Mr. Jones", but have you ever heard the live version off of their vh1 album "Across the Wire"? If you haven't, do yourself a favor and itunes it people! The two versions, the studio version and the live version, take on completely different tones. The differences are subtle, but most definitely there. The studio version was their first major hit. It's all about the dream of becoming a rock star...of a life where everything is handed to you on a plate. A life of glamour and fame, free from loneliness. The live version is this very life realized...the jadedness, the pressure, and the forthcoming depression when you realize that maybe there's no real substance behind achieving a dream driven by the desire for the bigger and better in a purely materialistic sense. If you listen to the slight changes he makes to the lyrics on the live version, you can hear the pain and the let down of something he once wanted (back to the studio version) more than anything. Together, Mr. Jones and Adam would "tell each other fairytales" and "look into the future" to a time where they were going to be "big stars," but after time passes and the fairytales turned into reality, they "don't see each other much anymore." They never sit and dream and soak in the simplicities of life. Finding joy in the little things, conversations with Mr. Jones over a few beers, has been overshadowed by what he thought he wanted. Compare the differences in tone for yourself:
Studio version:
When everybody loves you, you can never be lonely.
When everybody loves me, I will never be lonely.
I will never be lonely.
I will never be lonely.
I want to be a lion.
Everybody wants to pass as cats.
We all want to be big, big stars, but we all got different reasons for that.
When everybody loves you, that's just about as funky as you can be.
Mr. Jones and me staring at the video.
When I look at the televisionI want to see me staring right back at me.
We all want to be big stars, but we don't know why
and we don't know how.
But when everybody loves me, I'm going to be just about as happy as I can be.
Mr. Jones and me, we're gonna be big stars.
Live version:
So you wanna be a rock n' roll star?
Well listen now to what I say.
Just get an electric guitar and learn how to play,
just learn how to play.
Everybody wants to pass as cats.
We, we all wanna be big, big, big, big, big stars,
but then we get second thoughts about that.
Well man, when everybody loves you, that can be about as
f****d up as you can be.
Well can't you hear me 'cause I'm screamin'?
And I did not go outside yesterday.
Don't wake me, cause I was dreamin',
and I might just stay inside again today.
Cause Mr. Jones and me, we don't see each other much anymore.
This week it was announced that Owen Wilson, actor and screenwriter, was found in his home and taken to the hospital after a suicide attempt. I learned this via radio on my way to the post office. The person covering this headline followed the news by saying, "Why would someone like Owen Wilson want to commit suicide? I mean, really...what's the hardest thing he faces? Choosing which parties to go to and which girls to sleep with?" I found this comment both sad and true. Sad because we will never have any idea what he is really faced with. What kind of demons he fights off day after day. But, on the other hand, I find it true because this is a guy who seemingly has it all: money, fame, upcoming projects, family, friends, etc. It truly looks like, from the outside, this guy has it all and has it all together. Obviously, this is not the case. The radio guy went on to say, "If this guy can't find the will to live, with practically everything he could ever want, where do we find the motivation?" I understand his point, but I also think it's in the attitude in which everything is perceived. We may find motivation and passion in what we do on a day to day basis, who we meet along the way, who we come home to, etc. We may find our drive in the real, palpable things that affect us. Just like Adam Duritz believed that fame would open every door...I am sure that fame has opened many doors for Owen Wilson, but maybe he finally got to a point where he wanted more. Maybe he wanted to be affected instead of just going along for the ride. Fame and fortune are worldly abstractions and distractions. If, in life, you get to a point where you have all you thought you wanted but you have nothing satisfying, nothing of substance, I cannot imagine anything more frightening. I think this is the point Adam Duritz was making. I know there is no way of knowing, but when people only see what Owen Wilson or other countless celebrities have, maybe no one stops to think about what they don't have...what their seemingly full lives may possibly be missing.
I recently heard Chris Daughtry speak about his song "Home," and it made me appreciate him both as a musician and as an individual. This is the final item on this list of comparisons because it seems to me that this is what the other two people, both Owen Wilson and Adam Duritz, may be searching for quite unsuccessfully. When Daughtry spoke about his newfound fame he said it has been difficult, just as we see Adam Duritz relaying, but he referred to his wife (who he speaks to directly in the song: “The miles are getting longer it seems, the closer I get to you. I've not always been the best man or friend for you, but your love remains true and I don't know why. You always seem to give me another try.”) as his rock and his hero, and his children (a step-daughter and adopted son) as his life. He talked about being out on the road and finally living the dream that he has been chasing for so long, but that the shiny coin of fame definitely has another side: "Be careful what you wish for,'cause you just might get it all. You just might get it all, and then some you don't want." He is away from what is most important to him...his family. They keep him grounded and they greet him with love and open arms. He made it clear that he doesn't regret the path his life has taken, but the day to day mingling of strangers and other musicians, etc. cannot equal the unconditional love and familiarity he has at home, stating, “These places and these faces are getting old, so I'm going home…to the place where love and feeling good don't ever cost a thing.” Daughtry seems to have his priorities straight, saying his heart is always firmly planted at home, “the place where I belong, where your love has always been enough for me,” even though he may be a continent away. He says he has quickly learned about the cost of achieving your dreams and that sometimes things you care about get lost or left behind along the way. Daughtry closed by saying that with a fast onset of fame, you have to cling to everything you want to survive in the end and you must have your priorities straight, because if you don't...good luck.
I agree with that, and I feel like Adam Durtiz and Owen Wilson would agree as well. You have to live a life of meaning. You have to realize value, both within yourself and in the people that love you/you love. You have to work to protect and preserve what is important to you. And mostly, in life, you have to wrap up everything you treasure, hold it close, and run like hell through a crowd of people that want things from you, that ask you to spread yourself too thin, that shoot flaming arrows, and that have rigged land mines beneath your feet all in an effort to slow you down or take you down...and you just have to pray to God that when you get to the other side everything you love is still with you.
1. "Mr. Jones" by Counting Crows
2. Owen Wilson's recent suicide attempt
3. "Home" by Chris Daughtry
Though in my mind these two songs and the above current event from the celebrity world fit together seamlessly, picking apart the sciffywoo of my brain to adequately express it in a controlled manner is not the easiest task, but I will hit you with my best shot...and fire away.
Let's dissect...one at a time.
I love the Counting Crows. They are the first band I fell madly in love with and it was mostly because I had never heard music with a truly literary element. The depth of Adam Duritz's poetry, and the way that it is both deep and relevant to everyday life, still amazes me. Anyway, I am sure all of you have heard "Mr. Jones", but have you ever heard the live version off of their vh1 album "Across the Wire"? If you haven't, do yourself a favor and itunes it people! The two versions, the studio version and the live version, take on completely different tones. The differences are subtle, but most definitely there. The studio version was their first major hit. It's all about the dream of becoming a rock star...of a life where everything is handed to you on a plate. A life of glamour and fame, free from loneliness. The live version is this very life realized...the jadedness, the pressure, and the forthcoming depression when you realize that maybe there's no real substance behind achieving a dream driven by the desire for the bigger and better in a purely materialistic sense. If you listen to the slight changes he makes to the lyrics on the live version, you can hear the pain and the let down of something he once wanted (back to the studio version) more than anything. Together, Mr. Jones and Adam would "tell each other fairytales" and "look into the future" to a time where they were going to be "big stars," but after time passes and the fairytales turned into reality, they "don't see each other much anymore." They never sit and dream and soak in the simplicities of life. Finding joy in the little things, conversations with Mr. Jones over a few beers, has been overshadowed by what he thought he wanted. Compare the differences in tone for yourself:
Studio version:
When everybody loves you, you can never be lonely.
When everybody loves me, I will never be lonely.
I will never be lonely.
I will never be lonely.
I want to be a lion.
Everybody wants to pass as cats.
We all want to be big, big stars, but we all got different reasons for that.
When everybody loves you, that's just about as funky as you can be.
Mr. Jones and me staring at the video.
When I look at the televisionI want to see me staring right back at me.
We all want to be big stars, but we don't know why
and we don't know how.
But when everybody loves me, I'm going to be just about as happy as I can be.
Mr. Jones and me, we're gonna be big stars.
Live version:
So you wanna be a rock n' roll star?
Well listen now to what I say.
Just get an electric guitar and learn how to play,
just learn how to play.
Everybody wants to pass as cats.
We, we all wanna be big, big, big, big, big stars,
but then we get second thoughts about that.
Well man, when everybody loves you, that can be about as
f****d up as you can be.
Well can't you hear me 'cause I'm screamin'?
And I did not go outside yesterday.
Don't wake me, cause I was dreamin',
and I might just stay inside again today.
Cause Mr. Jones and me, we don't see each other much anymore.
This week it was announced that Owen Wilson, actor and screenwriter, was found in his home and taken to the hospital after a suicide attempt. I learned this via radio on my way to the post office. The person covering this headline followed the news by saying, "Why would someone like Owen Wilson want to commit suicide? I mean, really...what's the hardest thing he faces? Choosing which parties to go to and which girls to sleep with?" I found this comment both sad and true. Sad because we will never have any idea what he is really faced with. What kind of demons he fights off day after day. But, on the other hand, I find it true because this is a guy who seemingly has it all: money, fame, upcoming projects, family, friends, etc. It truly looks like, from the outside, this guy has it all and has it all together. Obviously, this is not the case. The radio guy went on to say, "If this guy can't find the will to live, with practically everything he could ever want, where do we find the motivation?" I understand his point, but I also think it's in the attitude in which everything is perceived. We may find motivation and passion in what we do on a day to day basis, who we meet along the way, who we come home to, etc. We may find our drive in the real, palpable things that affect us. Just like Adam Duritz believed that fame would open every door...I am sure that fame has opened many doors for Owen Wilson, but maybe he finally got to a point where he wanted more. Maybe he wanted to be affected instead of just going along for the ride. Fame and fortune are worldly abstractions and distractions. If, in life, you get to a point where you have all you thought you wanted but you have nothing satisfying, nothing of substance, I cannot imagine anything more frightening. I think this is the point Adam Duritz was making. I know there is no way of knowing, but when people only see what Owen Wilson or other countless celebrities have, maybe no one stops to think about what they don't have...what their seemingly full lives may possibly be missing.
I recently heard Chris Daughtry speak about his song "Home," and it made me appreciate him both as a musician and as an individual. This is the final item on this list of comparisons because it seems to me that this is what the other two people, both Owen Wilson and Adam Duritz, may be searching for quite unsuccessfully. When Daughtry spoke about his newfound fame he said it has been difficult, just as we see Adam Duritz relaying, but he referred to his wife (who he speaks to directly in the song: “The miles are getting longer it seems, the closer I get to you. I've not always been the best man or friend for you, but your love remains true and I don't know why. You always seem to give me another try.”) as his rock and his hero, and his children (a step-daughter and adopted son) as his life. He talked about being out on the road and finally living the dream that he has been chasing for so long, but that the shiny coin of fame definitely has another side: "Be careful what you wish for,'cause you just might get it all. You just might get it all, and then some you don't want." He is away from what is most important to him...his family. They keep him grounded and they greet him with love and open arms. He made it clear that he doesn't regret the path his life has taken, but the day to day mingling of strangers and other musicians, etc. cannot equal the unconditional love and familiarity he has at home, stating, “These places and these faces are getting old, so I'm going home…to the place where love and feeling good don't ever cost a thing.” Daughtry seems to have his priorities straight, saying his heart is always firmly planted at home, “the place where I belong, where your love has always been enough for me,” even though he may be a continent away. He says he has quickly learned about the cost of achieving your dreams and that sometimes things you care about get lost or left behind along the way. Daughtry closed by saying that with a fast onset of fame, you have to cling to everything you want to survive in the end and you must have your priorities straight, because if you don't...good luck.
I agree with that, and I feel like Adam Durtiz and Owen Wilson would agree as well. You have to live a life of meaning. You have to realize value, both within yourself and in the people that love you/you love. You have to work to protect and preserve what is important to you. And mostly, in life, you have to wrap up everything you treasure, hold it close, and run like hell through a crowd of people that want things from you, that ask you to spread yourself too thin, that shoot flaming arrows, and that have rigged land mines beneath your feet all in an effort to slow you down or take you down...and you just have to pray to God that when you get to the other side everything you love is still with you.
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