So, the Boomers have lost another one. Glenn Frey died. Gen X and beyond – Google “The Eagles”. Lemmy led the charge, followed by Bowie and now Glenn Frey. Each artist spoke to a segment of us; some of their material transcended the various life experiences of our generation.
It’s hitting a lot of people a little hard – perhaps harder than it should. We didn’t know them on a personal level but their creativity knew us. Knew what we were thinking, what we were feeling – so in our minds, we knew them and they knew us. Those songs weren’t written for you but for all of us. Reminders that the human experience is more homogenous than we would like to believe. We are not unique little snowflakes, after all.
I could leave it at this but…that’s not my unique little snowflake way 😉
When Lemmy joined the choir invisible – to wreak hell and havoc on their way of doing things…it gave me pause for thought. Why did it bother me? Why did I blast Motorhead on my way to work and on my way home? Why was my wee little piece of white bread suburbia Ford Focus vibrating at the stoplights? Lemmy and I had nothing in common, really. My life is the antithesis of his songs.
My heart isn’t though…LOL. Regardless of my paying taxes, working my dull normal job – there is the heart of that bourbon drinking, cigarette smoking, black leather and t-shirt wearing rebel. She’s just kept chained because she cannot function in society. I am not a singer or creative genius. So my life is dull normal to the outside. I have to eat. I have to survive.
The dreams, visions and ideology of youth, gave way to reality. Hey, it happens to the vast majority of us. We all protested something, we decried corporate corruption, political thievery and intolerance. Then adulthood set in; bills started showing up in our mailboxes and the cold wash of life’s tides hit us, full force.
That tide is hitting the Gen-X’ers, the Gen-Y and the Millenials; feel for them. It’s never easy when life and reality beat the shit out of your dreams, crumpling them up and filing them away in the folder marked, “Memories”. Hard copy or electronic – it doesn’t matter. The folder is universal and always has been, always will be. I’m sure life smacked Aristotle in the nards back in his day as well. I’m sure he had a “Memories” folder.
Memories are fun and are usually rather selective.
99% of us will never be famous. People will not Karaoke our creativity at the local bar. That doesn’t make us lesser than. It makes us different. It means we need to look around at our lives and decide what we can do to make what we have better, in our own way. If you create a charity – you are as important to the human experience as any of the aforementioned creative icons. The flashes of paparazzi cameras – applause – television cameras – sensationalism, these are not things that make you successful. What you do to improve the life experience for others is what makes you successful. Fame may seem like a really great thing but would you really want someone peering through your bathroom window, taking pictures of your daily routine? Would you enjoy your mistakes or bad decisions laid out for everyone to see, to criticize?
Yes, Boomers – we’re losing them. Our heroes, our icons. But the music remains. Let the good that you can create live on as well. Look around, what can you do to help someone else? How can you make your life count before it’s over? Yeah sure – it’s sad that these people will never write another song but these are only songs. Take action – make your life as poignant, as meaningful as the songs. We’re all too old for protest marches now – the rebel heart though, never dies. We should have, our generation, realized by now, that we can’t change corporations or political debauchery, but we can change the little piece of the world around us, if only a small bit.