All right y’all, I had to roll up my sleeves and earn a living this morning. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does there is no messing around. I already spent the money.
I was reflecting on my life last night, while drinking a beer alone and reading a 1,000 page fantasy novel, and tried to put in place the decisions I made that allowed me to live a life of such sweet privilege. I remember the bikes, and I have to thank my folks for that. The Schwinn Mag Scrambler, the Fuji Palisade, and finally the Jamis Dakar # 1 (Thanks to Tommy for that one). I thought about my job and how it was a series of happenstance encounters coupled with my indignant idealism that steered me towards my work in “social justice” as we like to call it.
What I can’t figure out is what ever happened to my career in the hip hop industry? I was around in the early days, right at the epicenter of the hip hop movement, an hour and a half southeast of Orlando, just past the orange grove belt. I was a pretty good breakdancer, and my rhymes were clever and tight, yet- no contract.
What up with that?
I have had a hip hop sensibility since I first heard Hard Times by Run D.M.C. and in high school I just assumed there would be a place for me in the industry. Nobody saved me a seat.
I’m happy now, as the facilitator of a virtual mountain bike kingdom, with a job that accomodates some trail-related travel and an almost daily nap, but what if?
What great destiny are you currently AWOL from?
Someone cue the crickets please, or release the awkward silence…
Anyway, I should be running a media empire. In a very very very small way, I sort of am. But not in the way that pays money.
Great. Sign me and let’s go make some money.
I was going to be a pro skater, my first pro event and a run in with the “BONES BRIGADE” put an end to that dream.
Music was a religion, a profession, and my life’s greatest heart break. When I finally played on a record that got signed to a label, I was managing a young band and had to make a decision; Play drums for another year or get serious about management and maybe do it forever. The needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the one.
One day depressed and stuck in traffic on park ave, I yielded to some mountain bikers on a tuesday night ride. I went home gatherd up some gear sold it and went to Joes for my first bike, (at 38yrs old) a kona fire mountain. Who’d have thought that those guys crossing the road, and a bicycle could save a life? In my head those guys were the revolutions crew (now Big Worms motley band) and the whole thing was destiny. One never knows.
Sorry for the long winded response but… beer+Irish=long story.
I’ll say one thing Jaunco. I think you are a damn fine writer and I know theres a book er two in Ya!
Git ta werk!
I agree with the last poster. Juancho- it’s there waiting to be born. Get writin’!
Me? I never figured I’d actually grow up. Well, get to the age I am now, anyway. I still doubt I’m what you’d call “grown-up.”
But if I’d had any outrageous dreams, they would have been to be a published author. The kind that goes around and does readings and signs books with a Sharpie fine point, smiles graciously at everyone, then goes back to the hotel and orders room service. The kind that pats Oprah’s hand and offers her a hankie while saying, “It’s okay. My novel often affects people this way. Just go ahead and cry, honey.”
And actually- in my next lifetime- stand-up comedian. My complete and total dream job would be to get paid the big bucks to stand on a stage and make people laugh until their mai-tai’s came out their noses, while using the foulest language imaginable.
And actually (sorry for taking up all your cyber-space here, Juancho), I think my real dream was to grow up and have the sort of family I always wanted.
And I have.
I just turned 47, and grown-up dreams (like writing a soul-satisfying novel) tug on me less and less.
The only dream I have that grows over the years is financial independence. I’d like to be able to do whatever the hell I want to do most waking moments of most days while I’m still strong in body and mind. I’d like my whole life to be like Saturday morning.
When they told radio rahim to turn it down, he turned it up!
go buy some D-Cells Juancho and make it happen; we’ve been waiting.
I was an incredible bagel sandwich artist, in my day.
There are so many things and places that interest me, so many activities that I like, that my destiny is to be good at some things, mediocre at many things and great at nothing. Maybe I just need some adult A.D.D. drugs and more focus.
At least my wife is a generalist too though her range of interests and capabilities far exceed mine. She does not always believe it but I think we’re highly compatible.
Well thanks everyone, I am truly humbled by your cleverness and interest. Now, if you don’t mind…
microphone check 1-2,1-2.
Juancho-Where are your words?
pssst! I’m working down here. My compatriots don’t know about the site. I am laying low. Catch y’all later.
Ballet dancer, here, until my 2nd grade recital fiasco that had me landing on the floor of the stage in my tutu…devastating.
Now, I’m with S’quatch — live every day as if it’s Saturday.