That’s it; I’m hanging up my cleats. I’m never going to be a professional football player. I never played college, high-school, pee-wee or any other organized version of football, and I’m not going to make it to the pros. Even if I discovered at this point that I was a natural route-runner, I don’t think my conditioning is up to par, and I’m not sure I’d have enough time left to get comfortable with the intricacies of a complex pro offense. Sure, I may be shifty and have soft hands, but at my size, 5’6 150, I’ve got to be realistic. So professional football player is one dream I’ll never attain.
I’m folding up my easel. I just don’t think I’m going to make it as a world-renowned artist. I can’t draw a straight line, cut a circle, or understand composition and all of my art teachers, of which there’s been one, in middle school, didn’t appreciate my talent, of which there’s none. I don’t know what colors go with each other and I don’t care to find out. Even when I’m dead I don’t think my scribbles will be worth scrap. I’m never going to set the art-world on fire. Another dream extinguished.
I always wanted to be a pop star, until now. I realize that bubble has burst. It’s tough to be a teen idol at twenty six. And I can’t carry a tune with a suitcase. Even if I had the best image-makers at my disposal I don’t think they could do anything about my big nose. No one would want to pin that up. I don’t think there’s enough auto-tune out there to augment my voice to listenable no matter how hard a super-producer might try. My dream of delivering a speech for best male breakthrough artist has crumbled. Oh well.
I guess what I’m getting at is that for the first time in my life I’m starting to come to terms with the fact that there are certain goals that I will never achieve. I don’t know if I’m the only crazy person who truly believed that I could be whatever I wanted to be when I grew up, but now I’m starting to realize that I can’t. There are certain and definite things I can not be.
I should’ve been prepared for this troubling discovery. After all, the first thing I wanted to be when I grew up was a Smurf. Not any one in particular, I didn’t care which profession in the Smurf community, I just wanted to be a Smurf. But then my mom, always the pragmatist, informed me that Smurfs were not real, and I needed a new plan for the future.
So then I decided I wanted to be a bird. Not anyone in particular, I didn’t care what species, I just knew that I wanted to have wings. I would strap tennis rackets still in their covers under my arms and practice flapping. I would collect scraps from all over the yard and organize them in a clump. Then I would stand over it and clench my butt cheeks as hard as I could. My mother, horrified, saw this and informed me that becoming a bird was also not practical.
So I should’ve known. But yet in the back of my mind I still maintained the belief that I could be whatever I wanted to be as long as it was real and didn’t require reincarnation. And all through school this seemed possible. Teachers only reinforced the idea. Then college came and the sky was no limit. I was gonna wrap this world under my arm pit and give it a big noogie.
And now, not so much. So far the world has only made my head sore. The list of possibilities is dwindling every day, while the list of actualities only seems to grow. I think, what I’m experiencing, might be my first instance of self-doubt. I’m not sure. I’m not sure what I want to be, I’m not sure if it’s possible, and I’m not sure how to get there. All I’m really sure of is that it’s all some scary shit.
So, what do I do? Well, I think I might have to do what I always do when I’m faced with some sort of crisis–I think I might just have to say fuck it. And fuck you. To all the doubters, especially myself. Fuck you voice in my bed. The one that keeps me up at night with rambling, anxious thoughts. Fuck you back of my mind. Where the gray matter turns black. Fuck you doubt. Fuck you complacency. And, above all else, fuck you fear. The world is my oyster, and I still intend to fuck it. Sideways. With wings. And blue paint on my face.
And some trivia:
This Day In History (November 9th)
1) It was on this day in 1967 that the first ever issue of Rolling Stone Magazine was released. Looking more like a broadsheet than a magazine, there was nonetheless an iconic photo on the front page of the issue. A still from the 1967 movie he starred in “How I Won the War” name the famous musician who appeared in an army helmet on the front of the first ever Rolling Stone. (Bonus Point: Rolling Stone Magazine is named after a 1948 song by what artist?)
2) Here’s an interesting tidbit. It was on this day in 1906 that Theodore Roosevelt took the first international trip by a sitting president. This made sense as he was going to witness the progress that had been made on this huge American-funded project. With that in mind what country did the big-sticked Teddy visit in 1906?
3) With Thanksgiving quickly approaching this question could not be more appropriate. For it was on this day in 1620 that pilgrims aboard the Mayflower first spotted land, namely Cape Cod in Massachusetts. In what Massachusetts’ town did the Pilgrims of the Mayflower set up their colony?
4) Another publication question. It was on this day all the way back in 1857 that this American magazine was founded in Boston, Massachusetts. Published by such literary heavyweights as Ralph Waldo Emerson, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Henry Wordsworth Longfellow, and a few other notable writers with 3-names, and still being produced today, what literary institution are we talking about?
5) A rare chance to shine for the art history majors, or more like art history minors, in the crowd. It was on this day way way back in 1494 that this family rose to prominence and power in Florence, Italy. The family would form a dynasty that lasted all the way to the 18th century. Still remembered for their support of early and High Rennaisance art, what powerful Italian family are we asking about?
6) Well, we would be remiss to do a This Day In History round on This Day in History without asking about this, the fall of the Berlin Wall. We all know from the Internet that we amazingly celebrate only our 20th anniversary of the knocking down of this Iron Curtain monument today. But, for a far more impressive two points, in what year was the Berlin Wall constructed?
Answers:
1)John Lennon (Bonus: Muddy Waters)
2) Panama
3) Plymouth
4) The Atlantic Monthly
5) Medici
6) 1961
