Click image to enlarge
What do you see in this photo? Perhaps an old abandoned car left to rot in a field with tall grass and weeds growing up around it and through it? Maybe upon first glance you immediately recognized it as a 1958 Chevrolet Impala and remembered someone you knew who had one in much better condition; and then just moved on to read what I might say about it and what it has to do with this story.
I am betting that it was one or the other and maybe both. But there is a third possibility and it is what I saw and do see whenever I look at this photo. Oh sure, I did notice the unattended growth that engulfs the car but I quickly moved past the green areas because my mind wanted to move it all aside and see what condition the car was in overall. Some might look at it and wonder what I meant by that because all they see is a car that is in very bad shape period, and regardless of what the rest of it looks like it is just an old piece of junk.
We look at people the same way, whether it is some dirty bum walking on a sidewalk in a pretty neighborhood or someone sitting on a curb holding a cup with a few coins in it; we probably all draw the same first conclusions. When we see an elderly person, regardless of how they are dressed standing at a counter while a cashier rings up what they are intending to purchase and notice a tremor in their hands as they reach for whatever means to pay for them we immediately see just some old man or woman. We wouldn't look at them for as long as we would someone who was young and attractive and our thoughts would be nowhere near what we might imagine to ourselves if they were 25 instead of 75.
A lot of us become like that old Impala, in fact I think we all will if we live long enough. If any of my kids were to ask me for just one more piece of advice, I mean if any of them ever wonder if there is anything left of me to pass on to them that they don't already know it would be this; enjoy the moment. Whatever is happening now, find every way possible to enjoy it because nothing goes on forever. When that old Chevy was in its prime it was an extremely admired automobile. That photo doesn't begin to tell how special it was and still is. As my eyes peruse the entire picture I am remembering that of all of the cars the Chevrolet Motor Division ever built, this one was the most exciting to me. This story is not about that Impala or the condition it is in but if you look at a photo of a new one or one that has been restored to like-new you might understand.
It would be like looking at two pictures of someone who was beautiful in youth and then one when they were old and struggling in life just to still be around. But again, this story isn't about the car or even about our perspectives when we look at it; it isn't about how normal we are when we all see the same things around us that are obvious; instead it is about human nature and why I might understand someone who only noticed the missing parts, the rust and the weeds. We all saw that and I think most people who were in the market for a second car would rather have a much newer one with all of its parts and pieces intact than that old Chevy. But since I am not normal I think I would rather get this one out of the field and pull it home.That car and me could have some wonderful conversations about the years we both were in our prime.
Well, it is about time you admitted that you are not normal Mister Minerd. But alas, I have always known that and just because few have ever heard me say it the evidence that I agree with it has been written and published in hundreds of thousands of words I have shared as a writer.
People around the world have read something I have written and some have probably agreed with everyone who thinks that about me. But it's okay; I am with you on this one because I came to terms with it a very long time ago. I really do see a very beautiful automobile in that picture because in addition to not being very normal I am also eccentric. I don't behave that way on purpose, I really cannot help it so let me try to clear all of this up before I am judged a madman.
The dictionary defines an eccentric person as someone who is an odd fellow, anomalous, uncommon, irregular, peculiar, strange, extraordinary, of free spirit, without boundaries to act or behave in a nonconventional manner. That is the better parts of what the dictionary says about eccentricity; it also says I can be described as one who is outlandish, queer, freakish, aberrant, bizarre, weird and...not normal.
Eccentric.
Well alrighty then! Because I just gave you what is also the description of most artists and good writers. The best painters, sculptors, song writers, musicians, singers, script-writers and story- tellers through time have been regarded as eccentric people.
Eccentricity when practicing ones craft is almost a mandate to be able to do any of those things well and when it comes to writing, be it fiction or nonfiction the writer has to be somewhere in the story they write. Anything less and they would be writing dictation or plagiarism.
Whenever someone who isn't a writer or has never tried to write a book says "I should write a book" I am pretty sure they will never get around to doing it. Someone who isn't a little or a lot eccentric probably couldn't do it so I am okay when someone says I am. I wear it proudly. An eccentric like me would probably never say "I should write a book" before actually writing one, he would just do it. Saying something like that looks to me like someone who needs encouragement or approval from someone else to try. They say it more out of wishing they could and less about thinking they ever will because they need to be sure when they do most things that they won't fail or come off as looking foolish.
But I don't give a damn about things like that and I have never masqueraded as someone who does when it comes to doing whatever I decide to do. It isn't as important to me what others think about me as it is what they know about me. I want everyone around me to know who I am and what I am capable of because it allows me to be who I am and believe it or not it works in my favor when someone wonders if they should either interfere in my life, get in my way or attempt to change my mind about something or prevent me from doing or saying what I want to.
A person who wants to write well and impart interesting stories couldn't do it if they weren't willing to stick with a thought and write it, even if it meant not worrying how others might perceive it or foregoing sleep when they were dead-tired or skipping a meal if it were being served at a specific time when that writer is searching for the right words to make a point. I sometimes need to ignore the phone when it rings if it does it in the middle of a paragraph I am passionate about writing and sometimes when I am reminded that I am wearing the same shirt I wore yesterday I wonder if that is all someone noticed when I am seen writing for hours on end. I wonder what is on their mind when they remark that I need a haircut or haven't shaved for a few days or ask, "how long are you going to live in front of that computer?"
I wonder about it but answering their concerns isn't as important to me than plowing through a story is. When I don't look their way or respond in anyway whatsoever I wonder what they might be thinking of me but I don't care. I will show them a more normal side of me later and if they can't wait until then they will have to find a way to deal with it. However I am not so obsessed with writing a good story that I cannot be interrupted in the course of trying to; I do hear those around me and I know when they are saying something important and when I need to stop what I am doing and listen, but remarks about my hair or what I am wearing or wondering why I do it or how I do it are quickly ignored and forgotten.
That car in the picture was doing all it was able to do when that photograph was taken. To some it is an eyesore and those people might only wonder why someone doesn't haul it away and mow the field. But if someone did, and then another picture was taken of that spot who would ever notice it and think anything at all about it? The car could be thought of as something eccentric; it doesn't care what anyone thinks about it and anyone who can look past the overgrown weeds and beyond the missing strips of chrome and hubcaps or the brown and gray areas that were once blue can see what I do.
It; just there being all it ever was, a car born in the 1950s that found its destiny. A talented artist could look at that photo and paint an image of it that art lovers would call a beautiful piece of work. I would hang it on my wall. But if that artist could capture with a brush an image that displays exactly what is seen here than he or she would probably be someone who is passionate about their work, so passionate in fact that another may think of them as being a little eccentric for wanting to do it. So lets look at it again.
Click image to enlarge
Please help me want to continue being eccentric.
You can find examples of my eccentricities here;
Chief: This one "HIT HOME" with this old chick, I have been called eccentric and I actully like that, I love the picture of the old car- but love the finished product, but most of all I do read these blogs and I do PONDER over them and I do get this one. Thanking you for your time in doing these blogs, I find them fun to read. Penny Wright
ReplyDelete