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You Don't Have To Be,,,
By joseexist in Musings On Muses
November 10, 2009

“You don’t have to be old to be wise.” I snatched that anthem up, for a time, when I was young. It was a fitting treatise in the form of a song that fueled my teen angst and powered the engines of my rebellious nature. That wisdom burned its’ candle wax out long ago and now that I’m older, I can still hear it reverberating deep in my memory. The smoke that never settles and the soot that cannot be washed away flavor my personality.

We gain many pearls of wisdom growing up but most just fizzle out after so long. “Live fast and die young” was one. “Age before beauty” was another. Bravado has got to be one of the most fun-to-use mindsets there is. True or false, it can glide your heart and soul right through any situation practically unscathed. Many years later, if you but look back, you will see the trail of your own blood left by scars you never noticed. The scabs are probably so faint that they are hard to locate. Still, though seemingly useless today, such was and is the crux of many an anthem. God knows how strongly I believed in many anecdotes in my youth.

Each generation will interpret its own anthems and they will stand out. The young will never be lacking any conviction or originality when it comes to their “pearls”. I respect the young for many of their actions, even the questionably motivated ones. Words and phrases will be twisted out of normal language into “pop culture” or “fads” of pronunciation and definitions non-standardized. By methods of madness that will forever escape grown-ups the code of the young will forever be just beyond cracking. They are resourceful and I think they deserve to run the world for a year or two just so we can give them a chance to prove themselves. Who knows? We might just be surprised.

Seas of faces and pumping fists greeted the heroes of youth who catered to the bravado of the young. I once dreamed of being such a hero but of course fate had other ideas. I’m actually kind of glad she left me alone. I believed in dying young while famous in order to stay famous. In many a drunken stupor I probably asked people to “take care of it” while I was on stage and in the bright spotlight. Such hindsight must be something like 80/80, or 8/8. Fame has a sweet taste indeed, but I’d rather just be me these days. I’m no Bon Scott, Phil Lynott, or Jimi Hendrix.

The shelves in the halls of fame may creak under the weight of egos. The air in there is ripe with energy too. Few can listen to Stevie Ray Vaughn and not want to move some part of their body. Few can hear Mozart without their mind leaping and bounding with both powerfully serious and powerfully playful emotion.

The dead-and-famous have cemented their image into society. They can forever be enjoyed without having to embellish any extra imagination onto their legacies. But we the fan and listener can always exercise that prerogative.

The living-and-famous are still pouring their forms. How everything sets up will be determined by the weight of their actions and the mettle of their “product”. Some are literally dying to elevate their status. Some are just “being themselves”.

An artist’s harshest critic, after themselves of course, is the general public. They will be the end-determinate of the staying power of an artist and their work. Close friends and family are biased. Professional critics are simply ramrods for attention and cannon fodder for the gun barrels of fame. Good reviews as well as bad reviews work great for the simple fact that they can get attention. A fan that makes the effort to “find out for themselves” is truly priceless.

I run all my new material by Glenda. Her honesty is invaluable in that she hates Hard–Rock and Heavy-Metal music. If the guitars give her a headache then, I must be on the right track! I’ll write something softer to impress her and, if she likes it, then that is a bonus for me in and of itself. I change what I can after she makes a review. It’s always hit or miss but as long as I’m having fun, not much is left untried. Still, I can’t seem to convince her to let me record her singing a soft composition. She has a beautiful voice. I’ll keep trying. She sounds far more famous than I ever will.

Comments


  • coolgranny coolgranny Report a ViolationReport a Violation
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    I just love reading your love story here. You could have a best seller in the romance genre. Invent a minor plot where the two soul mates finally get together, but leave us guessing about the happily ever after. You've hinted at that type of ending when commenting on my posts. "Circle won't be complete until both find their happiness together" or something like that in the past. You are young and a true romantic. True romantics totally care about the opinions of the ones they love. More frustrations with self are settled by the quiet approval of a loved one. Your Glenda is a lovely soulmate for you.

    November 10, 2009 at 5:32 p.m.