December 31st: Jimmy: 2nd Star to the Right

Song 2

I’m in a hotel lobby.  It’s late.  Only weirdoes hang out in hotel lobbies late at night.  Jay Z lied.

I travel a fair amount for work.  Not as much as some, I guess.  Airline Pilots.  Bus Drivers.  They probably travel more.  Well, the good ones anyways.

The thing about traveling is, in between points A and B -- and sometimes C or even D – there’s always a fair amount of in between time that you can’t help but fill with idle thoughts.  For those of you out there reading this in between a series of meetings or in line at the bank or while juggling multiple babies as they cry or vomit, or cry and vomit, and can’t help but exclaim ‘what I wouldn’t give for some time to idly think’ let me throw a quick ‘talk-to-the-hand’ to your misplaced jealousy.  That time for idle thinking is highly overrated.  Thinking with purpose, sure.  But idle thought…

It always starts with casual observation. 

Wow, that guy is bald.  Man, that old guy is fat.  Hey, that chick is hot.  Hey, that mom is hot.  Hey, that older lady is hot-ish.  (Oh by the way, if you’re having trouble relating with this line of thought, it’s perfectly acceptable to substitute your sex of preference here or anywhere in the following comments.  (Ex. Whoa, that old chick is fat.  Hey, that dude is hot.  Hey, that dad is hot.  Hey, that older duder guy is hot-ish… etc.  Got it?  Where was I?  Oh yeah…)

And then when your mind takes in enough random stimuli to start forming coherent thoughts, they slowly turn from casual observation to lofty self-evaluation.

Gee, I wonder if I could get a chick/dude that hot.  I wonder how much more I’d need to work out to get a chick/dude that hot.  I really should start working out more.  When was the last time I was at the gym?  Good god, I’m getting lazy.  …  Shit.  I guess I’ve always been lazy.  I really need to be less lazy.

And the final twisted phase of these dangerous mind strolls is a rapid shift from lofty self-evaluation to intense self-deprecation.

Maybe if I weren’t so lazy, I could do cooler stuff.  I could finally learn to play the guitar.  I’ve always wanted to play the guitar.  Tommy can play the guitar.  Jesus.  Why the hell didn’t I ever learn to play the guitar?  … Tomorrow I’ll start guitar lessons.  No wait.  Tomorrow is that stupid thing I’ve got to do.  Next week.  Next week, for sure, I’ll learn to play the guitar … Or at least start anyways.  Where is that instructional video?  The guitar case?  I think so.  … Wait, where the hell is the case?  In the garage?  I really should clean out the garage. How’d it get to be such a mess?  Jesus, how’d my life get to be such a mess?  What the hell have I been doing with my life? … Hell, even if I started playing next week I’d probably only keep it up for what?  A month?  Two?  What’s the point?  I’ll probably never get really good at it.  It’s too late.  Good god, I never would have said anything like that ten years ago.  Why didn’t I ever do anything worthwhile?  Like really worthwhile?

And here’s the weird part about ambling far enough down these dark and confusing tunnels of introspection:  If you wander far enough, you always seem to slam into a spot that’s almost precisely the exact same spot you slammed into last time you wandered down here.  It’s like laying back down in a full body porcelain casting mold you made of yourself a few months ago.  Some stuff shifted a little, it’s pretty darn cold, and I’m not sure why you made it either -- but it’s definitely yours. 

For me, in the last year, my stupid body mold keeps popping up propped against the high school graduation stage.  I know, I know.  High school?  Why?  I don’t think I’m one of those guys that had their psyche scarred back then.  In fact, I think I liked high school.  And I definitely don’t want to think it was the peak of my past or anything semi-sad like that.   I believe I’ve done good and productive things with my life since then.  Sort of.

But here’s where I’m stuck.  A few months ago I went to my little sister’s high school graduation.  I won’t get into the specifics as to how or why I have a sister so much younger than me – in fact I prefer not to get into the specifics of how or why I have a sister so much younger than me as I’m pretty sure it involves me at an age of rational thought and memory and my parents in some compromising position… or positions.  Gross.  The point is that her graduation made me think back to my graduation – pretty sure graduations do this to people.  I remember standing there in cap and gown at 18 years old, hugging parents and smiling at cameras and looking at 5 year old her thinking, “Wow. When she graduates what in the heck life is life going to be like?”

And now, seeming suddenly here I am living as that man I imagined being 13 years ago.  Bills.  Job.  31 going on more.   I was supposed to be rich, married, and famous by now… and well… 0 out of 3, I mean… I guess, I’m not really sure what happened.  I think I’m happy.  I think I’m cool.  And I certainly don’t feel much older now than I did back then.  But numbers don’t lie, and neither does 18 year old logic, so clearly by those standards 31 must be OLD.

So you try and compensate.  You do anything and everything to tell society and yourself, that you may be old, but you’re not that old.  You go out drinking on random weekdays.  You date people in their 20’s.  You wake up on the floor at 3 am in a puddle of drool, Cheetos, and video game controllers.   #youthbinge

And when the cloud of cheese dust settles and you realize you’re all out of Advil, 30 year old you politely asks 18 year old you to get the hell out.  You flop down on the couch in front of 7 hours of Sports Center and introspection slowly creeps its way back into the dimly lit family room.  How did it come to this?  What have you been doing the last 13 years?  I’ve got that aging part down, but the rest is sort of a blur.  In fact a lot of stuff between now and then seems like a blur. 

And maybe that’s the point.  Nowadays you can talk face to face with someone thousands of miles away while you’re driving down the road.  Robots are delivering packages and bombing people.  And honestly – moral objections aside – it all makes perfect since.  31 year old me skims through news stories chronicling technological advancements without a second glance while 18 year old me would have said “what the what?!!” while falling off my parent’s couch.  It may not have made a ton of sense then but now that you’re here, well, it seems obvious.

You can set goals and aspire for purpose.  And sometimes the path is seemingly straightforward and easy.  Get a degree.  Find a job.  Buy a house.  But the more you paint pictures of what the future is going to be and lay out long term plans for how exactly you’re getting to that long distance place, the road sort of takes some sharp turns just past the ole Johnson Farm and ends up winding through some pretty heavy fog.   And when you or someone like you stops yourself feeling your way through that haze and asks where you’re going, you say something trippy and coy like “Second star to the right, man” to hide the fact that A) you’re not entirely sure you are in fact going the right direction and B) you’re not entirely sure that original place you were aiming for is still even there… but more than anything you just want to keep on going.

And as hard as we try to get to some place we thought years ago was the place to be, we usually find ourselves somewhere left of center of our original destination.  But the thing is, lots of times left of center ain’t that bad.  (If you’ve already read ‘left of center ain’t that bad’ on a quilted pillow somewhere in an east Texas living room a long time ago, yeah, we saw the same one.  If you haven’t, dude, you gotta see that pillow.)

For those of you who have stuck with me long enough desperately hoping to find some precise epiphany or overall moral to this story, well, I guess I owe you an apology.  I started out with a point to make in my mind originally, but between my endless rambling and lame attempt at humor here and there well… it’s kind of a blur, I guess.  2014 and second star to the right, man.