Dreams, Memories & Bandwidth
No blog posts for over two months and now two in twelve hours?
I didn’t intend to write this one, but I woke up about 5 a.m. from a dream. A dream that seems very ordinary, and yet, it says a lot to me.
I started out hanging with my old friend Cody. It was like we were in college, but it wasn’t his dorm at Indiana University that I remember. Nor were the other people there people I recognized, though it was clear in the dream I knew them. Then we were at his house (again, not the house he grew up in) and I was talking to his parents until another friend of his, a guy I didn’t know, brought over a post-hardcore record to listen to. I asked Cody about taking photos during a concert at a theater (upon waking, I assumed this to be Austin where he lived for a long time). He told me I should go about getting a press pass because the band’s permission wouldn’t be enough (The Descendents). I corner Stephan the next morning at a coffee shop and he, very expertly, ditches me for the tour bus.
Now, strangely, other than Cody’s dad having passed away somewhat recently (a very good man, always very kind to me and was more than happy to share stories, including knowing a young Robert Zimmerman in passing while at the University of Minnesota) and the fact, if I wanted to shoot the Descendents, I would have reached out to Bill, not Stephan, this was about as mundane and close to reality as my dreams get.
So, then what do I take away from this and what am I sharing with you dear reader?
Well, as always, dreams require context (much like everything else should). There have always been two constants in my life: good people and music (and while I don’t know Stephan, I know several people who do and I don’t think he’d do me like that!). Music brought Cody and I together in high school, and it’s been the glue that has started and helped to maintain many a relationship after, but alone, it’s not enough. Cody and I are on good terms, I think, but to borrow from Stand By Me, incorrectly quoting it, “A guy never has friends like he did when he was sixteen, jeez, does anyone?”
Music is obviously still here, it always will be, but my relationship with sound is independent of my relationship with others, even if they have their own relationship with it. It’s a facilitator, it’s not the glue. It’s more of a lubricant than a glue. As I’ve said goodbye to multiple very long-term friends over the last few years (the subject of “Can’t Take You With Me” from my just released EP), I learned not to mourn the loss of those friendships, but to cherish the memories we had and to look forward to the friendships to come. The time I am gaining is time I can invest in friends who have recently come into my life and people I’ve not yet met.
We only have so much bandwidth. Between my day job, music, my family, the house, cars, taking my kid to hockey, etc., I don’t have time to waste. 99% of my time is spent intentionally, and mostly, productive. When I am lying on my deathbed (hopefully), I won’t be thinking about the things I didn’t do, nor will I be thinking negative things or lamenting the fact people came and went throughout my life; I’ll be thinking about the conversations we had about records, the shows we went to, the art we made together and the joy we received from the music we shared. Hopefully, we’ll be grateful for the opportunity to give back to the thing we love so much.
Life is short. It’s okay to mourn the loss of relationships, but don’t let it overwhelm you. If you’re losing people because you’re growing, as I believe is the case with me, then be grateful for the time you had and move on. If you’re losing people because, as the saying goes, “when you meet three assholes before lunch, it’s time to stop and consider you’re the asshole”, then maybe do some self-evaluation. But, either way, nothing in this life lasts forever, and other than marriage, no relationship is even promised until death. As Warren Zevon said, “enjoy every sandwich” but know when you finish one, you can always have another.