Who are you?
What a question. The daily pressure of the world seems to push that question of ‘who we are’ into our faces more and more. I substitute teach elementary school sometimes, and I watch kids try and ‘play up’ and emulate the other kids or older kids trying to figure out ‘who’ they are. It won’t stop here; the pressure is real all the way through school. Then you get to the real world where it becomes way skewed. There are people with ACTUAL JOBS called ‘influencers’ designed to steer you to being something you may not truly be, all for the dollar (or yen, or Euro). How crazy is this? Granted, I learn a lot about how to organize my closets with these people, but I don’t need them telling me who I ‘am’ or selling me on something I’m truly not. I’ll tell you something else, while I’m old and yelling; I don’t want a label. Or maybe I didn’t earn one?
I tried to be cool in school, to little avail. I did all the things I thought I should do, but I just didn’t quite get there. I didn’t surf in a surfing town; the one and only time I tried to become the next Kelly Slater the surfboard somehow got behind me then washed over me and hit my head so hard I thought I had a concussion. I ended up being a fairly good ‘sponger’, another name for one who rides a Boogie Board, which was the equivalent of the unwashed in the hierarchy of the beach. My Mom did let me enter the Boogie Board competition, which netted me 4th in my heat (of 5) and a free Sunkist T-shirt for signing up. We didn’t have money for surf shirts or Vans, so I got one surf shirt from 17th Street Surf Shop for Christmas, and had to wear knockoff skate shoes my brothers and I affectionately called ‘Bobos’. Endlessly trying to navigate the halls and be ‘in’, I tried to dress how my friends dressed and I looked ridiculous. To paraphrase someone whose name escapes me: ‘Peer pressure is a mutha….’ There were days when I would just wear ‘regular’ clothes; just middle of the road stuff, and guess what? It didn’t make my personality change. In the middle of my wardrobe issues, I started to find ‘me’, which wasn’t so much sports as it was the bass guitar. At home I became more of ‘me’ by spending a lot of time with the instruments in my life. My outfits when I play out today are still questionable, however, and, truth be told, I’d love to learn how to surf properly if anyone wants to teach me.
I’m in my 50’s now, and I still have no idea ‘who’ I am, except that I’m me. I live, laugh, love as much as the next Hobby Lobby shopper, so does that make me basic? My wife hates that I’m up early and ready to talk first thing about cold fusion at 6 AM. Does that make me a puppy? I could eat pasta every single day, so does that make me Italian? Wait, I am half Italian. Scratch that. I have a friend whose voice I fell in love with when she fronted a great rock band, then she transitioned from a woman to a man, so if I still have a crush on his voice am I gay?
My point is simply this: who cares? I didn’t join a fraternity in college because I didn’t want a label. No one could put a label on our old band, and well, that actually played against us because they didn’t know where to ‘put’ us. So we get labeled then ‘placed’ which means that we have to stay in our lanes. Don’t put me anywhere. Let me just do what I’m going to do, which usually means drive all over the road.
I’m writing this while backstage at a venue, and there is a great band playing out on the main concourse. I can hear the band clear as a bell as they run through some funk covers in their set. The bass player has tremendous tone and chops. I can tell he’s in church playing on Sundays and he’s crushing it. He doesn’t know that I completely envy his tone and his vibe, but I will never be the musical person he is, and I am OK with that. I can borrow one or two ideas from him and move on. I can make passable noises on my instruments, and for that I am thankful.
Navigating this life is hard enough without trying to keep up with everyone else, so don’t. Be you, whatever ‘you’ is, and you don’thave to put a label on it. Life, as we know it, is such a wonderful, broad stroke that doesn’t require us to have to sit in one place. Music is the same way. With as much that I have going on, I still want to make a few boutique records. I want to do a punk project, a bona fide ‘second wave’ 80s-vibe ska record, and put a soul band together. I’m not any of those players (if you were to label me), but I am passionate about music, and it’s what I want to do, so…there.
The pressure to be something, anything, today is crushing. The world doesn’t want thinkers, doers, or people to color outside the lines. If you don’t write in the margins, how are you supposed to flesh out your ideas? If you don’tmake a wrong turn, how are you going to find the unknown? If you don’t make a mistake (like my 11th grade wardrobe choices), how are you going to learn?
Recently, our son came home and found we bought him new shoes. He wanted to be gracious and excited, but then confided he would be made fun of if he wore a brand that wasn’t the most popular in school. He let his new (pretty sweet) shoes sit in the closet for a couple of days, and then he finally broke down and wore them. There were no harsh words spoken by anyone in school, and now the barrier equating ‘new’ with ‘ridicule’ has been shattered, or at least fractured for now. I wish Instagram were so forgiving.
If there is something inside calling you, then you had better answer, and let the haters talk. You don’t have time for it; you are bust being you.
On to REALLY important stuff. Before we left for this week’s show, our tour manager told us it would be 45 degrees at showtime for an outdoor show and advised us to dress warmly. For once in my life I brought the proper wardrobe. I had planned accordingly and was silently gloating at beating my old habit of ALWAYS bringing the wrong coat. Then day wore on, and the Georgia Saturday was closer to 75 than 45. The pleasant weather made for a great night, but once again, as if Murphy lived on my shoulder, I brought the wrong coat.
Enjoy the rest of the week. Make a lot of noise unique to you and have fun doing it!
‘Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken.’ – Oscar Wilde
See you on the road!
