Mix Tapes, Memories, and Making It Happen
Last week I was conducting one of my periodic cleaning and purging sessions. That’s where I go through all of my stuff, and get rid of things that have just been laying around a for a while. During this archeological expedition, I found one of my old mix tapes. Yes an actual cassette.
I have held on to some things for sentimental reasons over the years, but this cassette wasn’t one of them. It’s not the oldest mix tape in my life or anything. It just happened to be in with a box of other electronic stuff that I have had with me through the years. I probably dumped it in there during a move or something, and never took it out.
This tape is from around the time of my first summer job. Right after I graduated from high school. Because the car I drove didn’t play CDs, I had recorded songs from several of my CDs onto the cassette, so I could listen to my own music as I drove to work. (Or other places of the era.)
I popped the cassette into my current player in my bedroom and listened to it for a while. Like I said, I own ALL of the same songs on CD. But there was something about listening to the slightly scratchy cassette recordings, with all of their audio idiosyncrasies. It just…sounds different.
But this isn’t a post about sound quality in different media. The only pertinent information here is that although I was listening to the same songs I can listen to on CD, there is enough of a difference on the cassette recordings that it awakened certain types of memories that just listening to the song on the CD or on the radio don’t awaken as much. In this case, the atmosphere around going to my first summer job, since that is when I would most often pop in this mix tape.
Frankly, I hated that job. Hot, dirty work. Terrible, inept co-workers. You’ve been there, I’m certain. Yet having that job did give me a certain feeling of freedom. I was to start college soon, and several different aspects of my life were opening up for the first time. And the job at least took place in a beautiful wooded area. There were moments when I had that job that I felt like I was really on my way to somewhere. (Usually on the drives to and from, but occasionally while I was actually on the job.)
It’s that feeling of potential, of slight adventure, of a different kind of freedom and of the safe unknown that listening to that cassette brought to the surface again the other night in a way that the CDs themselves probably could not.
The reason, in my opinion, that this happened, is not the nature of the music, or even the nature of the cassette itself. But I listened to that particular tape so often during a time in my life when I opened myself up to that sense of promise and excitement that my subconscious associated that feeling with listening to that tape. So when, all these years later I popped it in again, it was like some of that feeling was brought to the surface.
I have enjoyed wonder and excitement since that first job. Maybe not as much as some, but it has happened. But the point is, don’t reserve those feelings for the milestone times in your life.(Starting college. Starting a new job. The first days of a new romance.) Make sure you open yourself up to such feelings of potential all the time, and remain in awe of everything, where ever you find yourself. A very tall order, I readily admit. But if you can do it, you will always be able to look to that spirit of adventure within you when you need a push or a pick me up. You won’t need a mix tape, or a movie, or a perfume to remind you of “what I was like back then. I was so young and stupid.”
You may have been young, but you weren’t stupid if your biggest crime was thinking anything was possible. That life lie ahead of you. It still does. It takes a hell of a lot of work, and maybe you didn’t realize that in the past. But you do now. So go; roll up your sleeves and get ready to sweat, get in your car, blast your old mix tape, and take off down the road of your life.
“Either everything is a miracle, or nothing is.” —Albert Einstein
Don’t Sell Your Friends Up the Network River (A Featured Post on Brazen Careerist)
By now regular readers will know I don’t do things as most people do them. Much of the advice I get about what I “have to” do in order to be successful just doesn’t apply to me.
One of them is networking in the traditional sense. I don’t believe in it, as defined by most people today. I don’t go to many events for same, and when I do go, I don’t behave as most do.
This isn’t to say I don’t network. In my own slow, subtle, introverted way I meet people and make friends. Furthermore I do try to help people around me when I can. It just so happens that many of the people I encounter can’t really be helped by those people in my network at this time.
Yet there are still occasions that would allow me to refer someone to either one of my contacts or even one of my friends. This has happened. But just as often, (if not more often) I have refused to acknowledge that I know people who could be of use to someone’s efforts.
I realize this is networking heresy. Most would say that you should try to help anyone you encounter. If you think a referral could do so, you should make it, they say. Then both you and your friend now know more people. Basic Network Building 101.
Yet to me, we shouldn’t try to help just any old person with whom we come into contact, even if they ask for it. The few network connections I have made are important commodities. Even more so when those connections are my friends. So I am not about to refer new people to someone I know in their field without a rather rigorous vetting process.
Whether it be a friend, or just a networking acquaintance, nobody wants to be saddled with dealing with a random goon that may or may not know what they want. Or somebody who ends up just trying to sell a used car, (literally and figuratively.) Nobody appreciates having their time wasted by someone who is neither an interesting person in private, or a particularly productive person in the professional realm.
When I make my infrequent personal references, I want to make sure that the person seeking help or advice meets several criteria. Even if they have not asked for particular help, if I happen to encounter someone in obvious need with a great idea, I might suggest they talk to some people I know, if I have determined that…
–They are trustworthy and discreet.
–The help they seek is genuine, and difficult to obtain without my connection.
–They are working hard to accomplish their goal.
–They are going to be grateful not just for my friend’s help, but for the fact that I made the reference in the first place.
–Their idea or plan is realistic and worthy of a chance to succeed.
When you think about it, doing this is just a matter of respect to your network connections. Sure it is easy to score superficial points in the “Network Game” by running into someone with a need and instantly shoving them down the conveyor belt of your network, referral in hand. You give the illusion of being a mover and shaker for a while. You get to strut around and vomit forth the most overused and undereffective lines in all of networking history…”It’s not what you know, it’s who you know!”
But in the long run, if the people you keep pushing on your friends and colleagues end up being useless, or even counter-productive, what does that say about the amount of respect you have for said friends and colleagues? It says that you value them insofar as they are a cog in your half-assed network machine. Not as people whose time is valuable.
I have a perfect example to illustrate my point.
I count among my friends a college professor or two. Professors tend to know other professors, of course, as well as other influential types in various aspects of their field. The potential for networking is high. And one such friend of mine (Let’s call him Dr. K.) has experienced first hand how certain people love to just feed on some of his connections.
There is a guy that Dr. K and I both know, who we thankfully have not seen in years. A fruitloop, and that is putting it politely. We’ll call this guy Norman. Norman truly believes in his mind that he can cure cancer. (No medical background.) And that he is on the verge of coming up with the Unified Theory of Physics. (No background in physics.) By his own admission he almost never reads, except maybe comic books. (Which makes his aspirations to be a social relevant novelist even more baffling.) At best the man is comical. At worst he is certifiable, if you catch me.
Norman constantly approaches Dr. K in hopes of getting introduced to some of his professorial colleagues at the university. My friend is of course smart enough to know better. Yet imagine if through Dr. K’s connections and access, Norman wound up with an appointment with a biology or physics professor to discuss his wing-nut “theories”.
In jest, I actually asked Dr. K once what the consequences would be if he opened those doors to Norman. His answer was that he would be probably be denied tenure forever. I don’t think he was joking, either.
Granted, Norman is an extreme example. (Though he is very much real.) Yet the lesson of networking with someone like Norman applies to everyone; don’t burden your friends and colleagues with fools, slackers, and hangers-on just for the sake of saying you “helped” someone. Don’t open doors for people just to say you have opened doors. Get to know someone and their work. Ask questions. And certainly ask your friends if they think the new contact is worth meeting before you ever tell the new contact about your friend.
The unworthy are still going to get through once in a while. Nobody can help that and nobody will hold that against you should it happen sometimes. But if every other person sent to you by John Doe ends up being obnoxious, maybe it’s time to cut Mr. Doe and the poor product he is peddling right out of your circle.
How do you determine if someone you meet is worthy of being referred to your network connections? Has someone like Norman ever approached you as a result of a colleague’s reference?
Obsession to the Point of Obsession
I want to talk about obsession. The actual thing, not hyperbole for being fond of something. In fact that is part of the point I hope to make; you can be fond of something, even love it, and not be obsessed with it.
Yet I face some challenges when it comes to writing this post. I realized that there are way too many examples from which to choose in this society of things with which people are flat out obsessed. And I don’t mean that everything is the object of someone’s obsession. I mean that there are numerous examples of entire obsessed communities and sub-cultures devoted to one thing. One doesn’t even have to research to find them. One can walk down the street and probably see some of them. (I bet you already have an idea in your head about what subjects could fall into this category.)
The fact that there are so many such communities proves my point to a degree. But for this post I had to pick one example, for illustrative purposes. So I did. But not just at random. One that I have determined to be by far the most egregious example of obsession I have ever encountered. One that can start a fight and end friendships quicker than any other. Believe it or not, I am not referring to religion. (Another big one.) I am referring to Star Wars.
I promise you that I know church goers who are less obsessed with God than some people are with this movie franchise. There are other things which illicit similar regrettable behaviors, yes. But this one seems to be at the top of the dubious list. So Star Wars is the focal point.
As a contrast, I offer up my passion for the works of Shakespeare. I intend to use that as an example of a passion as opposed to an obsession. Because you see, the first thing that people who are obsessed tend to do when you point out obsessive behavior is to mention that there are all kinds of things other people love. That Star Wars is just another thing for people to love, like Shakespeare. But in so doing they confuse the topic with the degree. The fault, dear reader, lies not in Star Wars, but in ourselves that we become obsessed. As I intend to show, passions are but one facet of our lives. Whereas in the case of obsession, areas of our lives end up being facets of the object.
I see four major indicators of obsession. The first is what I call excessive display.
In fourth grade there was a kid who wrote, “I love Stars Wars” on every line of every page of a notebook he owned. It wasn’t for class. He just carried that with him to fill it in with “I love Star Wars” while we would hang out at lunch and recess. I was only 10 and I still knew that was a bit troubling. Not that the kid loved Star Wars, but that he had to fill up a whole notebook in public with him explaining same.
You see, a person obsessed with something has to make sure everyone knows that they are. And in case you are tempted to think it was merely the actions of a sheltered child, consider the pewter collector pieces of the Millennium Falcon worth about a grand that I have seen used as the centerpiece for a formal dining room.
I have Shakespeare books on my shelf. If there was a funny t-shirt with him on it, I’d wear it to the theatres I frequent. I still look for a suitable print of a scene from Shakespeare to hang in my hallway. When asked about my passions, I will say Shakespeare among others. But I will not write at a table full of fellow students, “I love the Bard” over and over in a book when I am supposed to be working. I won’t get a bronze sculpture of Yorick’s skull, or a bust of Shakespeare to place right in the middle of my table, and point it out to guests during the first (and last?) time they choose to visit me.
Furthermore, if I did these things, most people would find it odd to say the least. Even the people who have the Falcon on their table. (?)
Another concept of obsession is daily encroachment.
Have you noticed the sheer number of things that the Star Wars franchise has wedged itself into over the years? And I don’t just mean the usual. (Posters, t-shirts, action figures.) I mean stuff like this. Even if that is just for kids, (which I think is wishful thinking) do we need Star Wars in the kitchen? If I had children that loved the movie, I would want to make sure they could separate that love from the enjoyment of cooking and baking with me. There are areas in life that don’t need to be touched by Star Wars. And yet just a brief scan of any online store will reveal that no area of life can’t be connected to it. Toilet seats, linens, pencils, shoes, credit cards. On and on.
Even concerts. Star Wars in Concert is basically spending inordinate amounts of money to do what? To go someplace and watch Star Wars. Again. Only this time there is a live orchestra to play the soundtrack as you watch. It’s not a tribute to John Williams at the Boston Pops or something that may pass as a legitimate homage to a gifted composer. It’s watching the movie again, with live music. (Or scenes from it, I don’t know how it works exactly, and it wouldn’t change my point if I did.) Did you see all of the people during the trailer on that website scream in near ecstasy as the music began? Is this love of the English horn at work, or an obsessive need to get even closer to Star Wars? It’s like a Rocky Horror midnight showing flipped on its head. And four times as expensive.
Did the franchise really need yet another venue?
I can’t promise that there are no Shakespeare cookbooks. But if they do exist, I imagine they are usually found in an obscure corner of the Folger Library, and are likely more scholarly than culinary. Certainly they are not on prominent display at Borders. Furthermore, I wouldn’t buy one if it were, because I don’t enjoy having Shakespeare in every facet of my daily life.
And while operas and symphonies exist with Shakespearean themes, they were designed that way. That is the media from which they come. A more apt comparison would be if Playstation 3 were to suddenly announce a video game version of each of Shakespeare’s plays. 80 bucks a pop. I wouldn’t pay money for them, because again I don’t want my love of Shakespeare to be injected into anything and everything I could possibly do. Encroachment. Five yard penalty.
Lack of critical objectivity is another sign of obsession.
The first three films, (which people will always remind you are actually “Episodes 4-6”) were modest entertainment, and were considered ground breaking by most movie historians. For the special effects and music, if nothing else. It brought the space genre out of the realm of the B-Movie. Sort of. Fine. So stipulated, your honor.
But by any objective metric, those three prequels were trash. Period. Acting, cinematography, screenplay, pacing. They were bad films. They made billions though. Of course they did. They had “Star Wars” stamped on them, and millions of people, fans and obsessed alike, had waited decades to see “how it all began.” The films were guaranteed hits regardless of their low quality. Hence the problem. Borrowed gravitas.
I know people who are mere fans of the first Star Wars films who pretend like the prequels don’t exist. Why? Because they know that the prequels are in fact garbage, and don’t have a problem saying so. They not only are poor films in their own right, they tend to infringe on what the first three films accomplished, so more than one grounded fan has told me.
If those same three movies had been their own trilogy, and called something like “Space Battles”, most Star Wars people would rightfully rip them to shreds, and they know it. The movies certainly would not have made billions if they had been exactly the same, but with name changes. Yet the sheer amount of energy, time, and sometimes blood put into defending these terrible films because they are Star Wars is staggering.
As for me, I think the play, Love’s Labor’s Lost is trash. And I was once in the damn thing. It’s rambling, awkward, boring, flowery to the point of incoherence and possessed of a humor so topical to the 1600’s that not even scholars know what the hell half of the jokes are supposed to mean. Few companies ever perform it, and I have no problem seeing why not.
They do however frequently put on As You Like It and that one sucks too. So does Titus Andronicus. I haven’t bothered to ever read the epic poem “The Rape of Lucrece” because it just doesn’t interest me in the slightest.
And yet all are the creations of William Shakespeare, a man whose other works have been a major influence in my life. But he wasn’t perfect, and his name being attached to something doesn’t make it brilliant. It just makes it Shakespeare. If only more people would adopt that view for things made by George Lucas.
Finally, the trait I think is most indicative of obsession is taking it personally.
Back in May, a new “holiday” was initiated. It was “Star Wars Day” among fans and obsessed alike. To be exact, it was on the fourth. Why the fourth? Because, dear friends, people could then walk around saying, “May the fourth be with you.”
This hearkens back a bit to “daily encroachment” in that these people are in so much need to attach a Star Wars celebration to yet another part of their daily lives that they declared the fourth of May their own day because when said in a certain order, it vaguely sounds like one of the catchphrases from Star Wars spoken by someone with a lisp.
COME ON PEOPLE!
If you are going to use a terrible, asinine almost-pun like that for something so silly, at least have the ability to laugh at yourself about it.
Yet, I found out the hard way, people obsessed with Star Wars cannot.
On my Facebook that day, I mentioned something about thinking it was one of the most desperate, unfunny, half-assed excuses for a holiday that I had ever come across. And let’s face it, it is. The vitriol and anger that came out of some people after I did that was sickening.
“Why are you so hostile to people who love something? Don’t you love anything?”
“What’s with all of the hate?”
“A theatre geek that has a problem with Star Wars? I call bullshit on your attitude.”
“How long are we supposed to put up with your narcissism?”
“What sort of fear are you really hiding by lashing out at Star Wars fans?”
I’d like to point out that 90% of the time I could put, “I just broke my arm” on my Facebook status and not one person would respond with anything. But mess with Star Wars and suddenly it’s on?
Or the time when I learned of one of my former friends, (note, “former”) was going to the previously mentioned Star Wars in Concert. This girl always prided herself in “telling it like it is” and “not pulling any punches. What you see is what you get.” You know the type. Pursuant to that she would have no trouble telling you if your shoes were ugly, or if your writing was boring and not worth her time. (Which she told me more than once.)
Yet when I ribbed this frank, allegedly fun-loving, down-to-earth and “I don’t care what people have to say” Star Wars fan that her going to Star Wars in Concert was “pathetic”, the literal end of our friendship began. The nastiness. The defensiveness. The sheer hypocrisy of being able to hold up Star Wars as a legitimate passion that I had no right to mock while going out of her way to tell me my writing was no good or letting people know she “hated” the bands that appeared on their t-shirts?
I don’t talk to a lot of those people anymore. And it’s all because they feel as though they have a personal stake in a stupid movie series. A movie series. They didn’t write it, direct it or appear in it. They have nothing at all to do with any of the people attached to it. Yet when they are silent and apathetic about everything else I say and do, then suddenly have all the energy and interest in the world to reply to my thoughts when I dismiss Star Wars kitsch? (Not dismissing them as people.)
And that’s the problem. If you cannot hear criticism of a movie you like without feeling as though someone is attacking your whole way of life, you are obsessed. (Or you secretly know that your level of love for the movie is inappropriate but you don’t want to admit it to the world when somebody calls you out for it.)
I am disappointed when people say they do not like (or even hate) Shakespeare. But if I took it personally every time somebody said it, I’d never leave the house. Because a lot of people hate his work, and for some reason have little problem in expressing it loudly and often. As though they are rebelling against their parents during the senior prom or something. Interestingly, many of the people who take pleasure in always telling me they hate Shakespeare are Star Wars fanatics. (Yes, the very people who do not like to be told that they perhaps may be just ever so childish for building their own light saber handle out of spare car parts.)
Shakespeare isn’t for everybody, and I know that. Nor do I care. I think most people who hate his work do not understand him, but that is my view. I know that it doesn’t take away from what the plays do for me. And I didn’t know Shakespeare personally. So what’s it to me if you don’t like him?
If someone tells me, “I hate King Lear”, what if I came back with, “Oh really? Why? Is it because you’re a stupid illiterate backwoods gun toting inbreed that is afraid of, or unable to think for himself? I guess so.”
Overkill, don’t you think? Yet mention in passing to a Star Wars fanatic how goofy you find the movies to be and see if you get treated any better.
In conclusion, it doesn’t bother me if you enjoy watching Star Wars anymore than it bothers me if you enjoy eating celery. But there is a line between enjoying and obsessing. I have tried to point out that line here in this post. Excessive displays, daily encroachment, lack of critical objectivity and taking it personally can be signs of being obsessed with anything, whether it be Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, football, political candidates, or anything else.
I would advise anyone who may recognize this behavior in either themselves or in someone else to ask what it is about either the person, or their lives that makes such excessive fandom so necessary. Is it really only a love for something, or is it a misguided attempt to fill a void of some sort?
Be passionate and share those passions with others. Partake in things you love. But at the end of the day there is so much out there to learn from and observe, so many people that like and dislike so many other things. Make sure you leave room on your shelf, literally and figuratively, for new things. To put it simply, life is too short to be obsessed with anything.
Do you know anybody who is obsessed in this way with something? Are you? Does it bother you in anyway? What causes obsession? How do you distinguish between a passion and on obsession? (Or do you?)
Too XYZ Featured on Examiner.com
One of my previous posts, “College? Epic Fail” has been quoted by Sharalyn Hartwell in a piece she wrote for Examiner.com. In it she comments on a recent survey, (conducted by Country Financial) about attitudes that the so called “millenials” are beginning to adopt in regards to higher education and its expenses.
It’s called “Millenials Question Value of College Education.” It’s a well written and concise piece. Please check it out.
Diversify Your “Friendshipfolio”
I don’t do the stock market. I don’t get it, probably never will. But I have come to understand one or two concepts that seem to be important to people that are into it. And one of them is to keep one’s portfolio diversified.
In order words, make different types of investments in different sorts of things, so that the ups and downs of just one stock, or type of stock don’t make or break you. To be more quaint and cliche’ about it, have more than one basket for all of your eggs.
One of the things that I have learned the hard way in my life is that the same applies to friends. Because blog posts are always more fun to read when they contain at least one made-up word, let’s call our portfolio of friends a “friendshipfolio”.
Diversify this thing! In any way you can, as soon as you can. I don’t mean to go out and be friends with everybody of every stripe. That to me is foolhardy, and leads to superficiality. By all means hold on to your friendship standards. But put in extra effort to make friends within entirely different social circles.
Have at least two, and possibly more circles of any size. They don’t have to be huge, but make sure that they have little to zero contact with one another. Don’t invite all of them to the same parties, and don’t go out of your way to bring some overlap into the groups if it doesn’t already exist. I want you to diversify, not emulsify two groups that might not otherwise have mixed.
I advise this because I have more than once fallen victim to the instability of a stagnant friendshipfolio. I did it in college to a degree, and I have over the last few years done it again.
As I have mentioned before, I don’t go out just to “make friends”. I’m Too XYZ for that sort of thing. So I make my friends almost entirely during events or projects with which we are both involved. It is through doing, and watching other people do that I feel drawn to new friends. (And they to me.) Which is why the vast majority of my current friends as as well as the majority of my college friends are theatre people.
As a result, back then, as now, when the problems I face are with my friends, or some demographic therein, I have had no place to turn in order to vent, or to get another perspective on things. Or another perspective on people. Everyone in my group of friends has often been connected to almost every other one of them in some way. I do have more than one group, but only one, huge, lumbering one that contains local people to whom I have any regular access. So getting an in-person infusion of new blood and spirit it very difficult. So the only other choice is to stay alone when things start to sour with the group. (As they are with mine, on many different fronts.) I am no longer willing to do that all the time. (No matter how introverted I am.)
Throughout my life, I could have probably gotten better advice, learned more about myself, made it through some very painful stretches of time, gotten to different places, and just all around had a deeper, more connected experience to life had I had been in more than just the one social circle. Circles that are equal in a way, but separate enough from one another so that if things are on the edge with one, I could have support from the other.
Not to say that all the individuals within a social circle need to be the same. They don’t, and within my theatre circle they are not. But all being connected by such a common thread gives them a sort of nebulous group identity when it comes to the sort of obstacles I am facing lately. (My average “Friend in Common” number on Facebook is 25. And a few people I have close to 40 friends in common with! Those numbers are way too high for me. Too many eggs in one tiny basket.) So I long for another group sometimes, equally broad and diverse within itself, but not tied at all to the politics of the first.
Plus, sometimes I just act differently with certain groups than with others. I reveal different aspects of myself. All of them sincere. All of what I show is me, but I tend to be open with different aspects of myself with different people, and there are some aspects that just don’t get equal time because most of my friends are in the same social group.
(And no, Gen-Y, I don’t act 100% the same around everyone I come into contact with, even though you feel that you do, and that everybody should.)
This is one reason I dislike Facebook now. It takes friends that might otherwise have never connected or crossed paths, and puts them on the same platform. I sometimes find myself being bland to the point of stupid, because things I would say in front of the much larger group one would not be said in front of the smaller group B, but all of them are present equally on my Facebook, unless I make sure to block an update from each individual person before posting it. Which takes the fun out of it for me.
In the end, I must find other activities and projects in which to partake in the near and intermediate future, so I can in fact begin to form a second but local social circle. (In person contact is becoming more significant to me these days.) Because in the last two years or so large portions of my current one have begun to sour. (Or I have soured on them) and if the fruit from that vine shrivels, I will need somewhere to go. As it stands now I spend 85% of my time alone. I’ve been trying like mad to remedy that before it is too late. Which is why I am advising all of you, whoever reads or tweets this, to do the same thing.
Diversify your friendshipfolio.
Do you do this? Have you friends that don’t mix? Do you keep clear boundaries between the different social circles in which you travel, or do you prefer to have one big interconnected circle?
Ty Unglebower 