June 5, 1994
They called him eccentric.
I suppose the term fits well enough, though
genius to the ignorant will seem godlike in its manifestations. But then genius
has its way of not facing up to reality. Seeing him yesterday in the woods and
hearing him speak the way he had ten years ago, I began to despair for my
friend. When I ran away from my family as a boy, I was convinced these friends
like Jimmy, Garrick and Frank had saved me. Now, with Jimmy jobless and soon to
be homeless at 45, and Garrick locked up in a dead end job examining bolts or
parts or some other piece of pointless instrumentality, and Frank hooked
forever to a kidney machine -- living on the hope that he can trade in his old
kidneys and start fresh with a new pair like a change of a water pump, I am not
so certain.
Perhaps in the end, I simply traded one aging dysfunctional
family for one much younger, drawn to the symptoms that were in that state
merely hinted at, as if my disease needed theirs, as if they were the same as
my uncles and aunts, but disguised well enough by youth to fool me into
believing in them I could find hope.
Perhaps I fool myself into believing the world
a better place, where people do live happily ever after, or at least, live
without too much pain or work or sorrow. Happiness, in this world, seems an
exception, something that has to be worked over, polished to perfection-- and
even then, with only a minimal success. We seem destined to fight the same
battles, always with the same foe-- out our own personal flaws. How we got them
is a matter of philosophical debate. Did we acquire them through growth, family
and environment, or did we have them as part of some more fundamental process
done to us at the genetic level. But the fact that we each have a major flaw of
character is not a question. Can we overcome them? And how?
By far Jimmy is the most talented human being
I have ever met, and the most charismatic. I felt in awe of him since I first
met him, and though tempered by time and experience, that awe remains. Which
explains my deep disappointment at his falling to ruin again. To have people
mock him is even more sinful. Not just the people at the college who called him
eccentric, but the fool kid in the green baseball cap yesterday at the Taco
Bell.
Like sharks, they seem capable of sensing his
vulnerability. And he, seemingly more and mor vulnerable as time goes on, draws
them with his bizarre behaviors -- as if he has turned more and more into the
cartoon figures he has created for years on paper. Perhaps he's scared. It
would explain the years and years in which he's attempted to hibernate, locking
his door, whispering from behind it for us to go away.
Sharon asked if Jimmy is in denial with his
talk of getting a good job without experience, or degree, at age 45. I think
she attributes his behavior to shock of being dumped out by Rich's mother Yet
to some degree she's right. Jimmy has been in denial all his life. He is part
of the more fundamental disaster of too many expectations too early in life.
Recently, I found out about a friend from
college, Michael Reardon, who should have been the 20th Shakespeare, but who
from the ruins of his own life tried to cut his wrists. He came to school in a
flourish of applause, professors bowing to his brilliance as if he had already
achieved something. Somewhere in all of that, came the idea he didn't need to
work at his art, or suffer for it, or even do it. Just being was enough, living
in the shadow of people's expectations, never able to live up to them.
Expectation of success is a terrible
millstone, under which many, many people have drowned. It is better to be under
appreciated, that way success is a pleasant surprise.
No comments:
Post a Comment