Hope I Die Before I Get Old (Vol. 1)
Posted by metaphormity on January 23, 2009
Had American Idol or, more appropriately America’s Got Talent been around at the turn of the twentieth century, Albert Einstein likely would not have completed his Theory of Relativity in 1919. Why? Because he was 40, for God’s sake! Which today is more like 75! The judges would have thrown him off the stage and told him he was washed up, over the hill, a failure at his old age. ‘Take some Geritol, pal.’
Pablo Picasso could have thrown in the towel in 1937, having presented Guernica to the judges at the crusty old age of 56. Surely, Simon Cowell would have taken one look at the extremely untrendy painting and offered a blistering, ‘Bloody awful!’
And then imagine poor Old Blue Eyes. There’s Frank Sinatra in 1969, belting out “My Way” at 54 and you can just picture the A&R guy going ‘I don’t hear a single’ or ‘Crooning’s out, old timer. It’s peace signs and loud guitars now’
I recently came face to face with this concept of age (as defined as older than 25) as a detriment to our national cultural identity after joining this cutting edge new thing called Facebook in an effort to be a part of this new revolution called social networking. Have you heard of this?
Truth is I’m 46. I have a rock ‘n roll band, Citizens Of Contrary Knowledge. I have a website. I have a Myspace page. I’ve been doing this internet thing for quite some time. And I’m still quite serious about my craft. Oh, and yes I have a family too. Myspace was already bought by Rupert Murdoch by the time my band got involved. So this whole gathering of “friends” in an effort to build our fanbase, left me cold. Bubbles the stripper with her 68,000 friends asking to be ours somehow got old real fast. However, this recent foray into Facebook was a bit of an epiphany for me when all these real folks who actually knew me from way back in my life found and reconnected with me again.
Upon reading up on my profile, visiting our website and discovering things like how we recently played the Izod Arena at the Meadowlands at a Nets/Pistons halftime show, licensed our music to major TV and film destinations and appeared to be deep into this music career, a curious thing happened. I got back numerous emails from old friends and schoolmates, congratulating me on my successes and having the conviction to follow my dreams (most of them knew me back then as the musician who also played sports).
What’s curious really though would seem to be the fact that I’m 46 and still doing music. Evidently, many of my friends have “normal” careers in the usual fields (finance, insurance, real estate, etc) and, hailing from affluent Fairfield County where a fairly high percentage have college and post graduate degrees, many would appear to be quite successful in their respective careers.
But in these messages of encouragement I sensed something deeper; as though some recognized in my choices, something they may have given up for a more “conventional” life complete with all the fixings. It’s as if it was preprogrammed into so many of us from this protected little community that your dreams are something you play with in your youth but ultimately grow out of in exchange for a college education, life as a grown up with a good job, a family and solid investments.
I found in these messages a certain sense of affirmation. A feeling that all the struggles (which still continue), the failures (ditto), the sacrifices (ongoing) somehow found in these messages a vindication. All those years running into old acquaintences from time to time who would ask, ‘Are you still doing the music.’ Why yes, yes I am. How about you? Still doing…what was that again? re…insurance? Are you into that? Is that your life passion? I make no judgements. Just curious. ‘It’s a job,’ was often the response.
If 40 is the new 30 then hey, I’m doing great! But where does that put Mick Jagger? And why is he still strutting around like an amped up rooster and isn’t he holing up in Sunnyville Estates somewhere in an assisted living community? He doesn’t need the cash, I know that much. Why is Bob Dylan still out on the road? It’s not as though he needs to change the world any more times than he already has. What’s the point?
For me the point came into focus about the time they announced our band at the Izod Arena and we were walking out in front of 16,000 people to play our own original music. I had seen this picture before in my life. But at that time, at 22, working as a roadie on a big world tour for the world reknowned band, Foreigner, I was hauling their equipment, never seeing in the excitement of those roadie pirate days, my own inability to believe that one day I too could walk out on that big stage as my own artist and have someone set up my equipment (that happened that night and I was helpful to the tech). It took me 24 years. But to hear that crowd respond to something I had created was worth the wait, let me tell you.
I seriously doubt whether Pete Townshend could have ever known, when he wrote that famous line in “My Generation”, that two of his bandmates would ultimately follow suit, or stranger still, that he would still be out there 40 years later doing windmills in big arenas with Roger Daltry at his side singing them with still more passion than most twenty year olds could muster.
Perhaps as the decades pass, if I should be so lucky, it may be that the new phrase is 110 is the new 85. If that’s the case then all I can say is, Hope I die before I get old!
(to be continued)
Peace,
Mark
