We spend a lot of time being different people. There’s who you think you are, who you’d like to be and who you really are. I’d like to think we’ve all got the first one pretty well locked in and we’re all always grasping after the second one. The third one? Well that reserved for those long hard looks in the mirror now isn’t it. Though let’s face it we’re all pretty good at lying to our own face. Or as the more euphemistic put it, “Dream of a better future.”
Dreams die hard.
But that’s not really accurate is it. Dreams don’t die as much as change. We also don’t have just one dream, we have many. Some bigger than others. Some of my smallest dreams are far more profound than my grander ones. The people I feel bad for are the ones who have no dreams at all. It’s not enough to exist. The world is too grand a place to settle for that and as fucked up as it is (and let’s be honest, it’s always been fucked up) it’s still pretty spectacular and a good chunk of the people in it are pretty cool.
Except for the Rednecks who insisted on talking through the night in the parking lot of the Tar Heel Motel in Nag’s Head, NC. Inconsiderate assholes like you guys, suck.
So it was a tough decision to walk away from the writing thing but not as tough as you might think. For one thing the industry has changed and not really for the better. The focus is on profit and market share as opposed to story and discovering the audience for the film or God forbid, take a risk. No sooner had I hung up the spurs than people came knocking after my one script still out there doing the rounds. My ambivalence shocked me a little but then again, I might have just been too exhausted to react. When everything takes years to happen, it’s not as exciting as you think it might be when it does.
So you stare at yourself in that mirror and ask, “Is this really me?” I’ve certainly put in the work. I’ve sacrificed family and friends for it, is the payout worth it? I just wanted to tell a good story and maybe have an actor or two bring it off in a believable fashion. With two pictures in the can, I’m still waiting. Yes, sometimes realizing a dream is not the best thing that can happen to it. And let’s be honest at a certain point, it stops being a dream and becomes real hard work.
And still, I’m pretty happy with the way things have turned out, even with the tragedy we’ve endured and all that goes with it and the ongoing frustrations of having a special needs adult to take care of and advocate for.
See he likes bikes too. In fact, Colin’s big fan of Moto GP, Moto 2, World Super Bike and World Super Sport. He’s missing regular bike races on the TV as much as me.
But I digress.
Happiness must be manufactured. In a world of infinite choices such as we have right now, there’s a lot of very unhappy people out there. Mostly because they concentrate on having stuff rather than focusing on what their stuff can do for them. I enjoy my DSLR because it captures the beauty around me when I stop to have a really good look at it. I love my helmet cam because it captures the stuff I’m moving through that I don’t have time to take that picture of. It also allows me to remember what I rode through that day that was memorable. Sometimes it’s easy to forget just how cool it was because you’re too busy doing it to actually remember it. If that makes any sense. It’s sort of shy I feel like I should have had two flights in the Lancaster to really appreciate it. The first time, you’re too busy thinking, “Holy shit! I’ m in a Lancaster.” to fully appreciate the fact, you’re in a Lancaster. I love my Netbook that allows me to post on the Internet to my blog as I relive the day’s exploits in print and I love my bike who took me there. I also love my wife for putting up with my yearly wanderlust. I’m not the easiest guy in the world to be around when a trips in the offing.
I’m glad some roads and what I saw and experienced on them are only available in my head. Those ones are for me and me alone. Not Youtube.