Nashville -or- The Unberable Lightness of Being Me

There comes a time in every young man’s life when he just has to grow a pair. No, I’m not talking about puberty, or a bar mitzvah. I’m talking about the acceptance of being alive. Sound new age-y? It’s not. I propose it to be about as fundamentally metaphysical as we, as humans, are capable of being. The supposed ancient Chinese idiom (I only note that is it supposed because the provenance of something of that antiquity seems unlikely to be obvious…or whatever), “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step” pretty much hits it on the head. What I’m talking about is the conscious choice to not suffer the indignity of a life at half speed, half-heartedness, or apathy. This is not an endorsement of the Disney-fied “you can accomplish anything” kind of absurdity bandied about in men’s magazines and marketing campaigns. This is facing up to your burdens, realizing the limitation of being human, and the honest and humble acceptance that you are alive. So, take that step, for crying out loud.

That time is here for me. It’s time I grow a pair. This is why I’m moving to Nashville. Contemplation only gets you so far, and usually, without the accompanying experience of action, that is up your own ass.

Milan Kundera, in the seminal existentialist novel, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, explains life in this way: “being” (as in alive) is full of said unbearable lightness because impermanence is a simple and overarching premise of existence. The German expression, “Einmal ist keinmal”, or “once is nonce” sounds a lot like the Buddhist idea that the existence of each moment is so unlikely that it might as well never have happened at all. This is the basis for Kendera’s suggestion that without permanence, life is ultimately insignificant, and each choice we make does not matter. The realization of our choices and actions insignificance (whether we realize this consciously or not) makes life unbearable to the liver. The tragedy of Kundera's characters is their failure to comprehend fully how free (not to fail, not to suffer) this makes one who is alive. The unbearable-ness of being continues to be so only because humans, thanks to our frontal lobes, are the only animals capable of feeling bad that we won’t and can’t live forever. But tell me, why do we so desperately desire immortality? Why would we suffer daily over something that only reminds us that we should be not suffering because that thing we’re suffering for isn’t attainable anyway. Faghettaboutit already, would ya? Take the first step; do something for somebody simply because you love that person (not because you think you’ll gain karma. Fuck karma. Once Monopoly is over, that stupid little money just goes right back in the box, and you get nothing. Understand?); try not to be dead—not literally dead, like eaten-by-wolves-dead, but dead as in the not-appreciating-that-you-are-alive-just-for-
-the-sake-of-being-alive-and-how-completely-
-preposterously-improbable-that-is-dead.

So: back to the subject of Nashville. Why move there? Why not? I want to make music, I want to meet new people, I want new restaurant environs in which gormandize, I want new things to consider, and think about, and write about. That is why I’m here today, writing this self-indulgent, ego-maniacal bit of linguistic drudgery—I am reminding myself that I am alive, I am here to do and be, and so bring it on. Also, I’d like to become the Anthony Bourdain of music--traveling, ranting, hosting a TV shows--and this is the first step in the process.

On a less proselytizing topic, I’m here to share my experiences behind my two main objectives in life: to make music and to see the world. I hope that you’ll enjoy the things I have to share here, and if you don’t, I hope that you’ll encourage me to do better by challenging the things I say, point out where I’m falling short, and keep the gay jokes to a minimum.

More to come later this week on new musical endeavors, including the record I’m working on for my friend, Matt Mackey, retro-sexual revolutionary, inquirer of truth, and one soulful brotha.