RUDIMENTS, pt. 181
Making Cars
I'd never been told much about
things from my father, in the
short time I had anyway. He
seemed always under a lot of
pressure, whether to get things
done or to somehow surpass
some invisible goal of showing
he was as good or better than
other guys. (It never worked out).
It colored everything he did, and I
never figured it out. I couldn't think
why someone would want to live
that way - those were things that
just weren't important in my mind,
what someone else 'saw' you as,
or where you yourself were within
some 'pecking order' of what really
was your own imagining. Yet, to him
that all was important, and it was
pretty sad too, in the sense that the
achievement being sought was not
really anything special at all. It was
all bargain basement stuff. When
you're all caught up in the low end
of things, every little extra clothespin
means an advancement, yet to the
'other' class to whom you're trying
to show, another dumb clothespin is
a really bad effort. These were all
people together in the same strait
of circumstances, no part of which
really had glamour, gain or actual
achievement. It was as if the contest
was in having a better Chevrolet than
the next guy, but never breaking out
to have a Buick or a Cadillac or Lincoln,
to use a paltry example. So it was like
a really bad running in place.
Nothing there for me, treadmills
were never my forte.
-
It didn't even matter, because
I was always on my own orbit
anyway, but I had to contend
with what all that left behind :
the television always being on,
my father laughing at shows,
comedies and cartoons, and
westerns, always westerns -
where I guess the 'good' or 'best'
guy always did somehow overcome
hardship and contention and best
the bad guy. Same story. I do kind
of realize now that this is all a
late-life reflection of my now-dead
father, and not really fair to him.
But, that's the breaks of this game.
Life is action and action is chance.
Getting stuck in psychological
ruts is neither. Whatever the
deal of this life, however it
works, we are each born into
our own peculiar set of
circumstances, and I certainly
never understood mine. I couldn't
fathom why I was born into that
station, situation, or place. It was
all so weird. (Or maybe I just have
an exalted opinion of myself). I
could never much see value in
the things others held up as
valued, nor could I ever quite
view the absolutes by which
they opposed everything. It didn't
HAVE to be one way or the other,
there were always shadings and
mixings, blendings of approach.
My world was much different
than theirs, and his. There was
an old philosophy joke I heard
somewhere, maybe that John
McLaughlin guy who taught
Philosophy at Elmira. It was a
little bit dumb, but I always
remembered it - 'The rich man
built the log cabin he was born
into with his own bare hands.
And if the poor weren't born
with talent (to build their own
and rise out of it) well they
should have thought of that
when they chose their parents.'
It's kind of an almost mean-natured
cruel joke, trying to say that the
people of privilege, though they
were born in a higher station, still
worked it through by their own
hands and pluck, and if everyone
else couldn't get to their station
it was because they weren't
good enough - and tough on them.
-
The ancient Greek philosopher
Epictetus (not really 'ancient,
more about 55-100 A.D.), said
'some things are out of our control
and some are not.' He meant things
other than what I am writing of
('in' our control: opinion, pursuit,
desire, aversion, and our own actions;
'not in' our control: body, property,
reputation, command, and whatever
are NOT our own actions) and it
never made much sense to me
anyway, but I always figured
doing nothing to be an action as
well. So I always stepped away,
and into DOING something to
get out of the situation. I don't
know if I had any control over
getting smashed by the train and
losing a big clump of time, but I
do know my other choices were
mine, and pretty much for the
purposes of 'action' of doing
something to remove myself,
as a minor could anyway.
Seminary, remaining alienated
and out of it, taking off for
NYC immediately after the
untold misery of high school,
art, the streets, the deep country
isolation, getting away and hiding
- each of those actions were
initiated by me, and carried
through. (For one thing, I simply
kept 'changing' my life) Jean Paul
Sartre had it thus : when events
go awry, we can say we had bad
luck and leave it at that. Which is
all well and good, I guess, when
one's luck has already gone south.
But that sentiment doesn't hold
when there's still a chance for a
decision to be made. Then, doing
nothing is a decision. All we have,
as humans, is the ability to act.
We each have that, at least. My
father's example just always
seemed to be running in place,
and never reflecting upon that,
certainly never talking it over
with me. His problem, as it is
with most people, was repeat
behavior. Over and over, the
same course of action - having
kids, expanding thereby the
house, need for space, energy
and work needed for doing
that, cost and expense, etc.
Over and over. As the kids
aged and grew, and he and my
mother aged and, bit by bit,
diminished, the hole kept
getting bigger. But nothing
was ever done about it - the
same behavior(s) remained.
Eventually it bests and wears
down the human animal. Needs
and necessities - all those kids
growing they want schooling and
clothes and cars, vacations, etc.
The next you know, the black
hole of Calcutta's got you by
the proverbial balls.
-
So when I finally did get away,
I was determined to make each
of my new places 'New'. Or
nothing at all. The city worked
well enough for what I'd sought,
as would have, I guess, Chicago
San Francisco, or London or
Paris. Those remain unknowns.
The way life is, it seems the
pretense of control runs things.
I was as opposed to that as I could
be. Social planning. Cures that
are worse than the disease. The
key assumption, sadly enough,
that everyone walks around with,
is that when something goes
wrong, someone or other must
be to blame - that false assumption
wipes away the workings of fate
and fortune, the workings of
'ACT,' which is what Humanity,
after all is all about. No one
'handed' Adam that apple, let's
say (using a real crummy example);
he chose to ACT for it, and did
decide to take it on his own.
Even if it did get stuck in
his throat.
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