The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. -E. Roosevelt
I would like to put in an official request that this be a really, really good week, but I’m not sure who is in charge of such matters. I was under the impression that I was until last Tuesday, when circumstances and miscommunication led me back to a place of insecurity and panic that I thought I’d finally eradicated from my sense of self. I hadn’t, though I’d found some sort of tourniquet to keep them from bleeding out and affecting my everything. And as I am capable of veering toward black and white thinking, much as I try to convince others not to view the world as such, my missteps begat greater missteps and my lack of productivity one day rendered me inert for several more. It needn’t be this way. Moderation. Everything in moderation. Except cigarettes – they are never necessary. I shall repeat this every time I crave one.
A friend of mine was on set with David Bowie during the filming of Zoolander. Bowie is one of his many musical heroes – this friend is himself a musical genius who has many heroes and has played with some of them. On break they both stood by craft services and Friend tried to think of an opening line. Bowie lit up and Friend quickly said, “You still smoke?!” to which DB responded “Everything in excess, man.”
Thus far this week is shaping up to be a better one. Good. Let’s keep it this way.
I overheard these two lofty statements today. Different conversations:
“I’m mad at the world.”
“I should really do Brooklyn more. I love doing Brooklyn.”
Being mad at the world must be exhausting.
Assuming the second speaker was referring to the borough, and not the supermodel, that, too, sounds exhausting. Brooklyn takes up some 70 square miles and has a population of over 2.5 million people. I have tremendous love for Brooklyn. My father grew up there, playing stickball on the streets with guys named Lefty and Bubba. He was the secretary of his “gang” and kept such copious notes that when their clubhouse was raided (after the gang had gone on a kitchenwares stealing spree or something of that sort), names and addresses of all members were readily available. He is an honest man, and the speaker of one of my favorite quotations: “Everyday I wake up and think, today’s the day they’re going to catch on to me.” I think most of us feel that way at times, like we’re playing grownup or businessperson or parent and that through sheer luck we have managed to fool the masses into believing that we are those things. I wonder if professional con-people go through this. Probably.
Though I would love to keep up this stream of consciousness and continue to write here to make up for lost time, I must instead don my grownup-who-writes-and-edits-for-a-living costume.
It’s a good week.