• P I S M O • P R E S E R V E •
My folks were of the opinion that people shouldn’t stand out too much. They had this idea of conformity, which reduced living with colorful passion into a muted grey. Drive a Ford Torus, don’t play loud music, don’t wear black shoes or care much about your appearance; keep your head down and work your ass off. Throw yourself into work. Work will save you. It’s unsurprising my father died with his boots on. He could have--should have--retired, but he kept trucking. He worked through cancer. He worked when my mom was paralyzed. He worked when she passed away.
There’s a great, often neglected, American tragedy in there somewhere—you spend forty-five years working toward a goal and then you pass on as soon as you cross the threshold into freedom. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan of working hard, there’s nothing like knowing good work and investing yourself in a worthy pursuit. My ambitions have always held my head high and kept my will strong. But I also know this, you must balance hard work with being at ease. You need to reach your goal and know it’s time to let go of the reigns. To say to yourself, “I made it. I planned for this. It’s good to let go.” Some of us are terrified of a prospect of living without career and adopting an ill perceived unhealthy view of succumbing to a desire for living completely for yourself. It feels selfish, especially when all you’ve known is work.
My dad would have been 72. What I would give just to speak with him, show him what I’m working on, shoot the shit the way we used to. You are missed, pop. I hope you found that freedom.
Song of the Day: Cat Stevens – “Father and Son”