My name is Never-Was

Paul McCartney wrote most of his great music by the time he was 28. We’re talking “Yesterday” and “Hey Jude” and “Let It Be.” Era-defining work. 28.

And I’m 32. What the hell have I been up to? I write a blog. Jesus.

Yeah, I know–I’m a teacher, which is considered by many to be qualitatively “better” than being a rock star, and maybe it is. But I’m left with the feeling that any chance I have to be something more than the Blogging Teacher has been lost in the passage of the last decade.

You know how when you’re fresh out of college you think you could do anything, because you’re young and full of beans and you haven’t had to deal with the Real World yet? Heady stuff. I dreamed a dream and all that shit.

Then you start making choices–small ones, mostly–and you notice that your options are dwindling. You feel like you’re sifting through the $5 DVD bin of Life, and everything looks like a direct-to-video Ernest film or, if you’re lucky, a double feature of Jeff Fahey movies. You gotta pick something, right? And then here you are, teaching kids where Virginia is on a motherfucking map. You’re 32, which still seems young until you realize what Jesus had done by 33.

And so we march onward toward the grave, bundles of personal compromise and sacrificed hopes, each day bringing us closer to our final moment of shrugged-shoulder acceptance, which, happily, is at least followed by rest.


About semiblind

Bringing you stark existentialism since 1981.
This entry was posted in best-laid plans, clusterfuck, despair and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to My name is Never-Was

  1. Judi Grewell says:

    Andrew there are many in this world who did not achieve their dream until they were well into their dotage. If you have your dreams in tact, you can ( and I think you probably are still following them) reach them, fulfill them, whatever. You are writing vignettes and they are being produced. You are writing your blog and it is being read. You are chasing your dreams, it just isn’t giving you that feel of the wind in your hair. Yet.

    • semiblind says:

      I love your use of the word “dotage” there. You’re right. Henry Miller–one of my childhood heroes, sick asshole that I am–didn’t hit it big until his 40s, and even then was banned in the US…

  2. Jesse Crall says:

    It’s a nasty dilemma that affects a lot people, myself included (and I’m only 22!). The only antidote is to find satisfaction in your immediate reach, through family and friends. You can also find dark solace in the anxieties of legends like Jim Morrison or Francis Ford Coppola and think “maybe a life outside the spotlight isn’t so bad.” But this is all easier said than done. Watching the Oscars or listening to Abbey Road makes that kiss of fame and recognition look so goddamn enticing.

  3. Jesse Crall says:

    Thanks, Andrew 🙂

  4. james says:

    i couldn’t have summed up my current mood any better than this. nice one andrew

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