Funsters or Dystops?

Being such a music fan, I couldn't stay away from a local fiddler's camp graduation. In the Appalachian mountains, fiddlers are my preferred music magnet. At this event, held at the Brevard Music Center, stellar and seasoned staff had tended to these aspiring fiddlers like mother hens.

The loving manifestation of support for these 'campers' was palatably thick. I had to remember to breathe as Darol Anger, spry at age 80, proudly ushered this new generation into the world of uplifting music. And gratefully inspired I was. There were 60+ people on stage having such a good time!

They were the embodiment of a fun zone! And, I was so happy, like a contact high, to get relief from the dystopian despair I've carried since Covid.

In that Brevard moment, I realized how much easier it is to live in the fun zone when you are young. Not so easy with the weight of the world and an aging body's demands. And yet, there was Darol, and he wasn't young… His very presence on that stage – beautiful syncopated interludes and gaping smile – reminded me that fun did not have to be a youngster's decision.

The whole world could go up in smoke, and how would you hold it? How do you hold it?

The Music Masters Syndrome

In my garage, I have several boxes sharing dust and spider webs. Among them are a few containers of music masters (finished studio recordings prepped for pressing) from my 20's. I'd worked so hard on those songs, and they never made it to mass production because I wouldn't consent to go on stage with leather pants with the butt-side cut out, so bare-assed I could throw raw meat into the audience. This was the price of a record deal in the 70's in LA. And here we are in the 2020's and I still can't seem to throw away these masters.

I'm sure the're not even playable anymore, but the idea that something I'd devoted myself so fully to, would simply be tossed into a dumpster, was too emotionally unbearable for me.

Fast forward 50-years, and I'm engulfed with a darkened worry, while just across the way, these fiddler's are having the time of their lives. Funsters or Dystops? It's as simple a choice as which instrument you want to play. But something apparently happens and the more time we put into that piano, horn, or even our partner, the more attached we become and before we know it, the time has come for the masters. How do we hold these investments of time? Were those lyrics merely a moment, or do they represent so many unfulfilled projects and dreams? Or, putting on my spiritual hat, were these masters my training wheels to get me where I am today? 

We all have our box of masters, don't we?

As we zip through our lives, good times and bad, we are all faced with intensely viable considerations. It's inevitable that today's 20-somethings will someday have to make their choices about what goes and what stays. This is life; the human experience. Now the question is, how do you want to live it?

Truthfully, I say, "forget that dystopian shit, and whenever you can… let the fun rip!"

But the impetus of exuberance seems to get lost in the non-stop awareness of what difficult times we live. 

Confused and Needing Perspective

My marketing colleague – a vivacious and very intelligent 27-year-old – mentioned to me that she, like her generation, was confused in these very confusing times, and that it would be helpful to her if I would share what it was like for me back in the day. She realized that it wasn't all so different for young adults in the 60's or 70's then it is for her generation today, but she wanted to hear stories about it. This would help her. Look at what these kids currently face, and it is no wonder they're ambivalent about having children, or their relationship to government, family, or to one another.

I recently streamed a marvelous documentary, The AI Doc, in which the Gen Z filmmaker kept asking the interviewees if they would have children in these times? Some, forlorn and resigned, shook their heads no, while others grinned and said "Hell yeah! This is the best time ever!" After two hours of mind-bending facts, the intelligent, highly emotional filmmaker – newborn son in arms – said… "Well… all we can do is try."

Yes, for thousands of years, people have been saying, all we can do is try.