NO ONE IS A BETTER ME!
I
had a reasonably successful work career.
I was pretty darn good at what I did to earn a living. Truth is, though, that while it certainly led
to a reasonably secure financial life, (Before and after retirement) it did
lack that same sense of passion that some of my other interests did. I would have much preferred to be a world
famous folk musician, or a respected writer than an insurance company vice
president.
Don’t
misunderstand! There were many
satisfying times during my rise up those gray flannel years. And the work was often interesting and
challenging. But not so much as picking
a banjo, singing, or seeing my literary works rising weekly on the New York
Times Best Seller List.
But
when retirement finally happened, (and I no longer had to wear a three piece
suit to work every day, it was time to turn my interest to my interests. And I
can now admit that even today, I still have some curiosity in insurance and
legal claims practices in various parts of the world. It’s not easy to shake thirty plus years of
one’s life completely out of one’s system!
So
I began to focus on what Bob wanted to focus on.
I
had first picked up the banjo in my twenties, and with some ‘how to’ books and
a few lessons with a professional folk singer, I developed a style which both
incorporated and yet transcended every
known facet of the instrument. And I am
happy to say that, even with the arthritic aches and pains of age, I play with
more satisfaction than ever. And much of
the improvement has occurred since retirement than before retirement. And while the conglomeration of techniques
makes it impossible to teach others, it works, and people enjoy it…even when I
sing! Notice that I said “people enjoy
it,” not “people SEEM to enjoy it.” And
because it is the amalgam mishmash of styles that it is, I can proudly proclaim
that no one on earth can play the way I do.
NO ONE! And that nuance is what
this piece is really about.
There
are similarities and many differences in taming a musical instrument and in
writing prose. Both require
patience. For me, learning the banjo was
not natural. It was painstaking trial
and error for years. Not so with
writing. I was writing stories while
still in grammar school. It was not only
satisfying, it came naturally. That
ability has been a factor in just about everything I’ve done in my life. I loved essay tests in high school and
college. I was able to compose plausible
prose on just about any subject; many of which, I now admit, I knew almost
nothing about. I became a hero to many
of the foreign entities with whom I was in contact with while working in the
New York home office of an international company. Many of my foreign compatriots praised my
letters to the management of my organization.
Why? I looked at some of the
legalistic language that my predecessors had utilized in their
correspondence. It was often pretentious
and had the tone of “You people in the far flung regions of Earth must learn to
do things as we Americans do. I always
wanted to be instructive as to technicalities, but respectful of diverse
cultures.
In
my long love affair with writing, I had to weed out what I was not good at and
focus on what I was. Poetry is
beautiful. I love hearing it. But I love a good symphony, too. I compare poetry to my prose as I compare the
symphony to my banjo playing. Fiction?
My best efforts in that genre were in the resume’s I submitted in
employment applications. It secured several good jobs during my career. Not JUST FICTION. Fiction bordering on fantasy! But Non fiction prose? Aha! OPINION! I have written editorials,
sermons, and speeches for myself and others.
I was a campaign manager for a political candidate many years ago. Good stuff, too! The essay format was my forte. It covers a broad topical range, and it comes
naturally. It‘s damn good!
I
have continued writing during my retirement years. It is satisfying. I meet with other writers regularly. I am in awe of their abilities in the realm
of fiction and poetry.
A
while back, when delivering my latest effort to a group, someone said, “Bob, I
like it except for the one line which calls into question whether the piece
would be accepted by others.” Someone
else joined in. “Bob, you almost ALWAYS
do that! Why can’t you accept the fact
that we listen because we want to….It’s not a favor or a chore. We look forward to hearing your work.”
The
comments were a revelation to me. I
started looking at a few of my past efforts…even the homilies I had delivered
as a guest speaker. There was at least
one line in each which I now reference as my ESCAPE CLAUSE. I realized it was from a lifetime of
criticism and self doubt instilled in me from childhood. I don’t want to go into a psychological
treatise, but I recognize that there was a reason I was doing this…and I wasn’t
sure why. Of course, telling the reader
that this essay might not be worthy of their attention was certain to bring
about protests of “Oh, of course it is
good, Bob. Matter of fact it’s
great! Was I genuinely insecure about
what I had written? Maybe just false
modesty? Whatever, I must admit, it was
an effort to manipulate the reader or listener. In any event, I began to
mentally dissect many of the pieces I’d written. Not changing the thrust, but simply removing
that poison pill I now refer to as the ESCAPE CLAUSE. None of the work has suffered because of this
literary surgery. Those couple of folks
who called me on that excuse making self indulgence have probably contributed
to my mental and emotional state more than would a century of phsycoanalysis!
So,
as I now recognize that no one plays the banjo in my style better than I do, it
is also true that no living person could ever say what I want to say better
than me! Both my music and my writing
are worthy of appreciation. They are
unique, and if someone doesn’t ‘get it,’ that’s OK. But the days of my forewarning them are over. Don’t need to tell me it’s good. I know it. I no longer want to sound like Pete Seeger or
Joan Baez. Or write like Ernest Hemingway or Maya Angelou. I’m not a mimic. I’m an original. Pete could never sound like me. Ernest had not a prayer of writing about my
experiences or passions. I always hope you like my efforts.But if you don’t, it’s
okay. I’m not crazy about broccoli. But I hear it’s good for me.
So…Thanks.
For opening meup to some much needed mental self awareness and self therapy.
Original Bob
J
No comments:
Post a Comment