Thursday, June 21, 2018

World Salad, June 21, 2018

Had a dream about Florida Man last night. He asked me if I belonged in this country and for documentation to back it up.

Hasn't happened in real life so, I got that going for me.

I've been thinking a lot about Charlie Chaplin. He was a lot of things. A comedian, an actor, a creator who tried to bring good things into this world. He was a philanderer, married four times, he was a father.

Our heroes are never perfect.

It's never a coincidence that our heroes are so very much like us. Some might say that's because we emulate them but, I disagree. I think there is something of us in them whether we see it or not at first.

I admired and loved John Lennon and Eric Clapton long before I learned about their complicated relationships with their mothers. Same with James Dean and Jim Morrison.

As I learned more about them the things I loved in them made more sense. The reasons things they created resonated with me so profoundly took on an even deeper meaning.

My love of Shirley Manson and strong as fuck women in general makes more sense when viewed through the lens of a boy with an absentee (weak willed) mother.

Of course, even with Shirley, it's that bit I learn later that brings it home even more. The struggle with who she is in this world, the self-hate covered by a false bravado, growing up and into her own skin and accepting (to a point) just who she is and being okay with herself just as she is.

When someone tells me they admire me or, gasp, that I am their hero, I think, if you had any idea how fucked up I am, how much I am absolutely faking it, you would change your mind.

And then... sometimes, I hear myself talking to me like I would talk to you:

Why not you? Yeah, you fuck up, maybe even more often than not but, you get up every time, dust yourself off, and keep fighting the fight. And yeah, the fight is mostly with yourself but, so is theirs and if you offer even a glimmer of hope to them fighting theirs then maybe you should cut yourself some slack. Maybe, when you can't get up, they'll be the ones to pick you up.

I used to want to be a hero. When I was a kid.

Now that I am old man my heroes have changed. My heroes are people most of the world have never heard of. They're the small handful of people I hold close who fight their own fights with a courage I aspire to.

There is no real point to this post.

My coffee needs a refill so I will leave you now.

Have a day.