This sunday I was at JJ’s house when I got a little phone call on my little cell phone. I picked up, and lo and behold —- David Haushaulter! Astonished, I began talking. We conversed for a quite a while, and then, when we were about to part ways, we had one metaphysical discussion on the process of aging.
See, Haus is in this place where he is feeling older. And I’ve been there, and, in fact, am there right now. I’m not quite sure if were in the same spot (I would argue that were not), but one thing is for sure — we both are feeling removed from our former, younger selves, and feeling ‘older.’ But what does that mean? How do you quantify one’s feelings of being older? My mom, the other day, exclaimed that she loves her current age, and that she doesn’t feel any older at all. In comparison to what age I wondered. Throughout one’s life, how many times might one actually feel older?
You know how we measure dog years and humans years differently? Well, one human year is really 7 years for a dog (or something like that). And that seems to make perfectly good sense to everyone. But how do we know that one human year is really one earthly revolution around the sun (365 days)? What if humans don’t really age by years. What if a human year was measured differently? The psychological aspect of aging may be dependent on another spectrum. Maybe emotional maturity. Maybe feeling isolated from or feeling unable to relate to a younger crowd. Maybe finishing middle school, or getting your BA, or getting a promotion in your career job, or having a child, or being a grandparent, or having a close friend or family member pass away, etc. How then do we measure a human year?
I say, “by feeling older.”
Perhaps at some points a human year could be 12 years, or 12 months. Who knows how long the intervals could be betwen feeling older, and then feeling older again. You could go through vast psychological growth in a short amount of time (say, 6 months or so), or you may plateau for a while, and feel impervious to age for a decade (or more! how great!!). What is it then that makes us feel older? Is it pure, raw emotional growth. Is it the assimilation to horrible things or becoming colder or desensitized to trauma? This made me wonder how long a person could actually live (in congruence with this line of thinking). What do you think? — 10, 15, maybe 20 (human) years? Perhaps. It makes sense.
Think about how older people have gone through hard times. Those hard times can certainly catalytically propell you through extenstive (feelings of) growth. Or maybe you thought about all those unfortunate people who died at very young ages. Many (or most) of these people have gone through troubled times that may have caused them to reflect and transition through emotionally troubling and maturing experiences. This could very well have been the cause in their demise, the root of their rapid aging. Think about it. There’s always one of those 13 year old kids in your classroom or in your cabin that seems hella old. They may even be older than you, speaking in human years.
The way I see it, I’m probably around 4 or 5 human years old. I once felt really old in 5th grade. Again in 8th (when I was a cool, big tough 8th grader). Once while I was giving my commencement speech at high school graduation, and again at camp this summer. Now, I’m about to graduate from college in 5 months, and I feel it coming —- though I don’t quite feel any older. Who knows?
I don’t know, this is just a cool way that Haus and I viewed the aging process. It just puts the aging process as more of a pscyhological issue. And we all know psychology (and philosophy) is where it’s at. Ja-boo!
Last night, in a round about way, I found myself at Schleicher’s house in good company. We were surfing through channels (some of which I never knew were legal) and came across the movie, “Dumb and Dumberer.” We watched this slap-stick film for probably an hour, or more. I was clearly the only one enjoying myself, but it was then that I had an epiphany. I realized that the only reason I was having such a good time watching this film was because I kept thinking about how close the actors in Dumb and Dumberer (Eric Christian Olsen, Derek Richardson) were coming to actually portray the acting styles of Jim Carrey and Jeff Daniels (respectively). The more closely I regarded the performance as a strict comparison to what may have been done by Jim Carrey and Jeff Daniels, the more amusing it became. After all, I thought, this is just a script and it could very easily be Jim and Jeff acting up there on that tv. Then, my thoughts took a different track.
I had a bright idea - I thought about a completely new and revolutionary way to make a movie; a way that will embrace the abilities of the actor, and may provide a greater appreciation for the profession. I would call this genre of cinema — Audition Film, or rather — Auditionography. Yes! That would be it. Allow me to explain.
See, I would make some crazy movie. Of course, I would need a pretty sweet script, and everything, but once that’s done, I’m set with work for at least the next 10 years. So, here’s how it works: I have the script and do an audition (as any normal movie would) and I would cast the best darn actors I could find. The “best” is perfectly dependent on the vision for the movie that I have in my head — I’m the director, I’ve got a vision. So, I would make the movie, just like any other moviemaker, and then I would release it (again, like anyone else). This movie could then go on to make a million-bajillion dollars, like any other box office hit. But this is where it gets good.
After my first big movie hit, I don’t just get another script and make another movie … I do another audition! — for the exact same script!! I would have another (perhaps slightly different) vision for the same movie, cast a different actor for every character in the movie, use the same script, and the same set, and probably hire people for the same cost. They wouldn’t even need to be big name actors - if anything, I would probably only need a couple big name actors for the first movie, or second, and then I could use middle-level actors that are trying to make it big for the next 2 or 3 versions, and eventually, other, older, more famous actors will want to star in one of the many sym-sequals just for kicks and giggles (symmetrical - sequal, as I will call them). Think about it. People would be so down — especially if it was a funny movie to start out with, one that the average person would want to see multiple times anyway. I mean, how great would it be to see the exact same movie (script and set) done from another intrepretation? I think people would love to see the same movie done by different actors. This could be my way to make it big.
~Director Bell
(Oh, and if you’re a big time Hollywood person reading this blog, and salvating at the mouth over my idea, … I have rights to it, but let’s talk, keeping in mind I’d like to be the director).
I saw The Last Samurai today with my mother. I thought it was great. First of all, I’m a huge big fan of “ninja movies.” I know this isn’t the most politically correct, but, regardless, I am a sucker for bad-ass martial arts movies with (preferably) jet li, and subtitles. The faster, the better. The crazier, the cooler. The more weapons, the more I pee myself. I love it. I think I just have an undying interest in hand-to-hand combat that tests the maximum abilities of the human body —- forget all this gun and shooting stuff…. throw me a sword! Plus, I think I’m really drawn in to the eastern way of living and the spirituality, discipline, and compassion that samurais tend to embody. This movie certainly appealed to the Honor inherent in Japanese culture, and the ongoing culture clash that any eastern nation has as it confronts western revlolutionizing. Now, sure, this was no “18 Weapons of Kung-fu”, but it had pretty great fight scenes and appealed to all the emotions. I was down. This movie was alright, for sure. (yes, for some reason, here, my writing is wrought with colloquialism - but I was down for this movie!). Anyway, there were a lot of great lines, that I really appreciated, and that seemed to offer light to my own cloudy journey through life. I especially liked, “too many mind” —- well, specifically its context and ultimate meaning. And I especially liked the following conversation between Captain Algren and Katsumoto on the battle field:
K: Do you believe a man can change his destiny?
CA: I believe a man does what he can until his destiny is revealed.
Lastly, I’ll say this… the inscription on the sword, “I belong to the man in whom the old has met the new” (or something like that) is extra awesome!
Jolly good.
The packers have once again earned their place atop the NFC North tonight! Unbelieveable. Today was a magical day, and clearly the heavens are shining down on Green Bay. As a college student living in the Pacific Northwest I don’t get many opportunities to see the Packers play — though my heart is with them every sunday (and/or monday). Meanwhile, I’ve watched two horrible developments take place throughout the season. First, the Seattle Seahawks, led by their fearless, backstabbing, traitor coach Mike Holmgren, continued to have a winning season, turning heads all over Washington — and the nation. Second, the Vikings started out 6-0, and I live with a Vikings fan - Justin “silly” Sill. So, Silly is givin’ me a hard time all fall, and I promised him that their demise was near coming. And, boom, JUSTICE!! Justice has finally come. You can bet your last dollar the second I heard the Arizona miracle, I was making a call to Minnesota to rub it in his face! (Ha!).
Well, since I’ve been home I’ve watched every Packer game that’s been on — the packer way — with my Wisconsin friends and some Wisconsin Beers. My face grinned for 4 days straight after Brett Favre’s ridiculous showing on Monday night, with 3 million passing yards in the first half, and 93 touchdowns in 3 quarters (well, that’s what it seemed like). And I knew that this weekend was a big one. If the packers were going to make it to the playoffs, Dallas had to win or the Vikings had to lose. All Dallas had to do was beat New Orleans; it seemed reasonable, but, of course, they couldn’t pull it off. This was an emotionally disappointing way to start watching the packer game. We had no doubt in our mind that the Pack could beat the Broncos (that’s right, Adam), but our hopes now rested on the Vikings-Cardinals game, which seemed awfully unlikely. We may hate the vikings, but we respect their ability. It should have been an easy win for the Viks. Ninety-nine times out of 100, the Vikings are going to beat Arizona, but today was not one of those times.
So, here I am, downtown Milwaukee, on the east side, at Jeremy J’s crib with Joe Hahn, Greg, Schleiks, Jeffery, and Hoffman —- the game has been great. We’ve seen back to back interceptions, 98-yard runs, great grabs, big hits, and the packers kicking butt (31-3). Meanwhile, the Cardinals were up, 3-0, and we were excited. 6-0, we were thrilled. 6-7, we were like, “yeah, well, there’s still hope.” 14-6, we were becoming doubtful. 17-6 with 4 minutes left, we wanted to cry.
So, 6pm rolls around, with two minutes left in the Packer/Broncos game, and I realize I have to get back home to go see this movie, The Last Samurai, with my mom (quality bonding); so Schleiks, Hoffman and I hop in the car, and head over to Hoffman’s house to drop him off. On the way, we turn on the Vikings game (on the radio) in time to hear that the Cardinals have scored a touchdown at 2 minutes, and were attempting the 2-point conversion. Failed!. We’re almost to Hoffman’s. THEN, Arizona recovers the onside kick, and our fingers become crossed. We arrive at his house, hop out of the car, run to the house, ask his roommate (who’s watching the game) what’s going on, he tells us the game isn’t being broadcasted anymore (because the packer game is over, and they stopped showing footage of the vikings/cardinals game) —- we stare at a seemingly blank screen (of commercials). THEN, my cell phone rings, I answer, Jeremy is on the phone, “Bell! they did it” —— the TV miraculously flips to the first instant reply of the magic —- Arizona’s McCown throws it up on 4th and 25, and its pulled down in the back of the endzone with the tippy-toes of receiver Nathan Poole gripping the endzone turf. Jeremy and I are screaming to eachother on the phone, and tears of joy are simultaneously felt all over wisconsin. My first thought was a funny one — “The Arizona Cardinal Victory is really a Packers Victory”. The pack has done it! With a solid 4-0 December, and by the mighty power of #4, Green Bay heads to the playoffs. My sympathies to Silly, and his fellow Vikings friends, and to the Arizona team who sacrificed their 3-13 season & assured 1st round draft pick for a 4-12 season & 3rd round draft pick, …. but, it’s playoff time!
In the beginning of the season, I mentioned two drawbacks — the vikings, and the seahawks. With one down, what’s in store for the Seahawks you ask? Well, they face Green Bay next sunday —— in Lambeau! Holmgren vs Favre, when it matters. Could it get any better?!
I am merely one humble perspective to the greatness that is this situation… It is my obligation as a resident of the great state of Wisconsin that I post the chilling tale as told from the mouth of my good friend, Johnny Hyland.
“Today was a truly magical day at lambeau. After a great win, which featured phenomenal defensive play, and a killer ground effort, much of lambeau felt uneasy about our current standing. We had won 4 in a row, all which scored 30 or more points, our defense was improving beyond belief, and our leader was on a mission from the heavens. We knew that the most exciting team in the NFC, possibly the NFL could be done in a matter of minutes. The only closure to a crazy season was a wonderful curtain call for the man himself Brett. Then, the man behind me received a phone call, the game we had been monitoring had stopped being monitored when the helpless cardinals were down 17-6 with 5 minutes to go. All of a sudden, this phone call yielded tremendous info, the cardinals has scored to bring it to 17-12. Within 10 seconds, section 115 erupted, as if more good news had occurred, the cardinals had received the onsides kick. They were soon down the the 8 yard line, and the crowd was cheering “go cardinals go”. The Pack didn’t know what was going on, for they were still playing a game, and all of their cell phones were hidden in the end zone. Soon, it was 4th and 24 from the 28 yard line, cardinals with one last attempt to beat the dredded queens, and i had gotten a friend on the phone, 5 second pause, followed by Touchdown, Touchdown Cardinals!!!! I turned around and screamed touchdown, and everyone went crazy. I saw numerous beers fly in to the air, i saw kids get picked up in the air by complete strangers, Brett Jumps up on the bench and sports the number one to west crowd, and sherman gets drenched. For a moment, everything in the world was right again, and our crazy season lives on another week. After the game, the team dances to hip hop in the locker room, while our leader sits in his locker and bawls. One more he says, one more for Irv. It was magical in many ways, and was a tremendous christmas present.” — Johnny Hyland (12/28/03)
Hyland, I couldn’t have said it better. Long live the Pack!
Perhaps excitement is a projection. You never really know if others are happy, but if you are, the world is happy. When caught up in the feeling of excitement, you project it onto the world - it becomes a lens in which you see your surroundings. When you feel that excitement is all around you, or that you are a part of the excitement you are clearly not excited. You are not excitement. It is not pure. Rather, it surrounds you; you are removed from the feeling, left to onlook. Here is a case where excitement and you are distinctly different. Some may say that the excitement may exist without you. Does this mean you are replaceable or that you are not integral (to that excitement)? OR is it that those who are excited are excited today, or in this moment, because of excitement you brought to them at another point in time?
Try to think about thinking for one moment. For example… to look back, or
keep walking? When you think about it, you only have two decisions. If an
observer knows all the decisions, s/he can always expect the outcome. How
trite does that make all of our actions? Now, I can say, “what else could she
do but either look back to see if I’m still there or keep walking, and not
look back?” Now, emotions are enslaved to fall victim to our reasoning.
Reasoning puts a framework to our emotions in which our emotions must follow
suit, must remain within the parameters. I can say, “Ahh, she chose not
to look back. Interesting.” But what does that mean —- it means you were
removed from the emotion for a certain while. Enough to ask the question.
Passion - is not asking the questions. I’m asking questions. I must lack
passion. I’ve felt a small fragment of passion — bursts at the beginnings of
all relationships. But they dissipate over time… and we always hope to
resurge passion with lust. But lust is not passion. Lust is sexually
incompatible with passion. Passion is everything. A desire for everything.
It’s bigger. Is it attainable? I don’t know. We’re all striving for it,
right? Or at least that’s what I’m told. That’s what music tells me. Well
then, is the problem with me? Can I not ever feel it? I don’t know. Either
way, that can’t be tested by doing nothing? The only testable method for that
question is to reframe it. Reframe it to now read, “Is the problem with who I
meet? With who I’m feeling passion towards?” This is testable. This puts
you in multiple relationships. Having the question and believing the
hypothesis is what keeps us striving to be in relationships. So, then,
everyone married is either feeling passion, or has given up looking (and
settled with no passion, or allowing the one person to feel passion while the
other doesn’t - thus the non-passioned person is just maintaining the other
person’s passion; wether the other person knows or not - most likely not).
Everyone single, has either given up looking or has not found the passion.
The question you must ask yourself when your single, is if you’re willing to
get into a relationship again, and whether you’re willing to risk/maintain one
where only one person (one of the 2 parties involved) is feeling the passion
—- typically the other person… or if you would rather continue looking;
with the potential that you won’t even be able to recreate the passion (that
the other person had for you once before) that you’ve now lost. So you play
the odds game — you figure, you’re young enough, you’ll meet more people, you can’t really know anyways, so go on … live on the edge. Go searching again.
Or, perhaps, let chance take over again. Maybe you’ll meet someone that has
a flare of passion…a flare of mutual, compatible passion — and then you
will try to come to understand if it is
what-you-need/what-you-are-looking-for/enough-passion-to-get-by/bearable/toler
able/maintainable/effortless in ways that you can continue the relationship
for
another-day/a-while-longer/until-you-have-a-good-excuse-that-forces-you-to-leave/until-you-meet-someone-new/until-you-profess-that-you-don’t-‘love’-anymore/
until-you-break-things-off-with-an-excuse-that-she-doens’t-understand.
Thinking fucks shit up. But what if you know that, and all you want to do is
feel. Wouldn’t you want to be with someone that makes you feel all the time?
You already know how to think. Why would you want to keep doing what you know you can do? You like striving for goals, right? Tell me when I should stop
for this goal?
You already told me not to stop once… and I’ve tried. Look - we’re back
here again.
It’s christmas time, and I’m in Wisconsin. One would expect to see dashing sleighs, and a winter wonderland, but its pouring rain outside instead. At first I was like, “cool”, but then I realized that I wasn’t driving around in Washington. If I don’t get a chance to go sledding this break, I will be very upset.
[music: Moroccan Spirit]
Everyday we wake up with goals for that particular day, even if our goal is to do nothing, or to not have goals (which, BTW, occurs few and far between as of late). Over the last few days I’ve been trying to figure out how I’m going to get back to school, and, more specifically, with my new car (though mine is white). So, today, I woke up with this goal in mind, and arranged to bail out of my return flight to Seattle from Costa Rica. Instead of flying from San Jose to Houston and on to Seattle, I’ve decided to spend the night in Houston, catch a flight to Milwaukee the next morning. There, my dad will have my car (a.k.a., “the saab”) waiting at General Mitchell, and I will hop in the ride and kick it out west for a liesurely 4-day, 2,600mi road trip back to school. I thought to myself, “How great would it be to pick up some friends on the way” and proceeded to bust out my new cell phone and call up my housemate, Justin, who lives in Minneapolis, MN. I find his number on yahoo ‘people search’ and call him up, and I’m like, “Hey, man, how’s the home life?” And he goes, “Well, no one is around.” And then it hit me —- when I come home, life is crazy!
When I’m at school, life is mine. I feel my world is purely dependent on my decisions, and yeah, sure, there’s always an element of chance, but I feel in control, more or less. I choose to go here, and stay there, and do that, and say this … blah, blah, blah. But at home, the world is different. It’s beautiful and wonderful, don’t get me wrong, but different. Perhaps two uses of the word, “responsible” will help shed some light on the distinction.
At school, I feel that I must be responsible for my experiences. I have to take responsibility because I am pioneering my own life in a new place at a new time. When I come home, it’s not so much that I need to take responsibility, but, rather, I have a responsibility. Here, responsibility is governing my actions, whereas, in the former, responsibility is trying to understand my actions.
At home, there are so many people in my life that have been there since the beginning, and I want so badly to keep them in my life. I see that my life is defined in part by those relationships and their ability to progress. I find myself bound to making time to see each one of my friends and family members and to share in the experiences we each have had while we’ve ‘been away’ at school, or at work, or at war. Home is something constant and developed, and reliable, and unconditional (or so it seems), and I have a responsibility to its maintainence, especially if it remains something so dear to me, and at the heart of my person. School, on the other hand, is predominately growth, and risk-taking, and discovery, and adventure, and I must take responsibility for my experiences and choices. Home is stability. School is instability.
This is not to say the two are different or incapable of having similar qualities (in fact, at home I often make plans with my home friends to do wild stuff while at school)- its just, at home I find myself reflecting about my time away. It is easy to relate with the very people you grew up with and who approach life similarly. Its interesting to see the different directions your friends’ lives have taken, considering we all started at virtually the same spot. I wonder if this notion is what keeps everyone coming back home for the holidays. When I fly home to milwaukee I always know there are over 25 ultra-great friends from High School that are chomping at the bit to hang out, catch-up and go have some beers. Aside from them, four families wait with open arms. My immediate family (of 4) is stoked to have a full house again, my mom’s relatives (the Kuchlers) are already fired-up for the holiday festivities to come, my father’s family (the Bell’s) work hard to make-up for the 13 years of lost time, and who can forget the minikani family - going to winter camp, chillin’ at pubs, gossiping over who’s coming back to camp or not, and loving every minute of it. I come home to a symphony of faces. It never fails. I love it. I’m bound to it. I don’t want it ever to change. And it is for this reason that I spend so much energy trying to see everyone, and share in their ever-changing lives, if only for a day.
At school, I have no idea where my efforts in academia are taking me. I just keep putting one foot in front of the other, while I journey into seemingly arbitrary directions. Hoping to meet the right one, attend the right school, and have the right job. I make decisions and I don’t know what will come of it. But I have learned to take responsibility for them. My life at school couldn’t be better. It is easily the best part of my life, and the root of whom I’m becoming, but when I come home, life is crazy. It becomes a frenzy of knowing all the great people you want to see, and trying to make time to see them. I feel like I come home with so many things to do, and people to see — and take the time to drive down memory lane and see how the city is changing or how High School is the same as it ever was. When I come home, it’s not that no one is around, it becomes a struggle to be around everyone.
But I raise my glass (of merlot) high, and wish a happy holiday to all the people I’ve been able to spend some time with this break (so far…): mom, dad, sis, mike wahn & Annie, erik schleicher, greg hartman, shoop, burcham, joe g. & Lauren, lindsey wehr, tresca, amie & Colin, kristin, sarah marks, jovita, april cook, kim morgan, eric hoffman, brett hoffman, mike wolf, ryan cunningham, adam taff, molly verette, kyle balke, karin sommerfelt, jeremy jefferey, Caitlin (Jeffery), Trangy, Petey, ‘gina, Mr. & Mrs. Matranga, Frank & wife (and 2 children), aunt kathy, aunt Jean, aunt Dori, Uncle Jim, Uncle Larry, Lonnie, Rachel, Andy, Marla, Leah, Amanda, Brian & Nancy Pederson, Barto, Lindsey’s cousin Seanna, Mr & Mrs. Hartman, Mr & Mrs Wolf, Mrs. Nelson, Mr. Wahn, Mr. & Mrs. Yee, Jessie & Renee Yee, Perry, Colleen, Kevin, Christine & Maureen Bremner, Mauda, Drayna, Michelle Barrie, Ira, Mark Meiling, Carole Dede, Grandma Meiling, Mr. & Mrs. Cunningham, Alex Payne, Chris Klein, Dennis & Sons (from Philmont), Pastor Johnson, Mr. & Mrs. Nauman (and daughter), travis King, ellen Burchell, Chris Sampson, Danielle Reed, Mr. & Mrs. Taff, Mr. Moreland, Mr. T., Mr. Zeitlow, Marika, The Koenitz family, Jim & Donna Zarek, Christie Zarek, Val Schleicher (& lil’ michael), Niko Alexiou, Mr. & Mrs. Wright, Karen & Kristin Wright, Johnny Hyland, ….
And I’m sure many more…. When I come home, there are so many people to see, and so little time to see them. When I come home, there are so many tales to be told, and laughs to be had. There are so many bars to be visited, and beers to be dranken. Dart games to be played, and holiday toasts to be given. When I come home, life is crazy. And I’m ok with that.
I gotta go. Tonight, some friends of mine have formed a band and are putting on a show, and then I’m off for another Bell Family Reunion - in celebration of my Unlce Cliff’s birthday.