The Sketch Newtonian

Blogging, for me, is based on a very simple process: I notice a recurring theme in my day to day life; said theme evokes a strong emotion in my head, heart or gut; the emotion builds up enough force that I require an outlet.  Thankfully, you, the reader, provide me with that outlet, otherwise, who knows exactly how I would find my release.  Today, however, I am not writing about Underdog, ABBA, or 80s rock—I’m going deeper.  So, there it is, you have been warned.

This past weekend, I met a girl who was staying at our same hotel in Austin, and she had been locked out of her room by her boyfriend.  As I mentioned it was not particularly chivalrous to lock one’s girlfriend out of a hotel room at 2 AM on a cold night in October, she did what she could to stand up for the boyfriend because “he does these things from time to time, but…” a statement followed by her professing her love for the guy.  While her loyalty was admirable, I still found it a little sad and told her so. 

We talked for a while about how she could see herself marrying this guy (I don’t know how exactly I inspire people to bear their souls to me, but in her defense it was late and everyone had had a little to drink) and that he was perfect when he wasn’t drinking, at least most of the time.  And there it was—I had found yet another example of someone clinging to the archetypal grandeur of marriage.

What is it about marriage that we desire so badly?  I can’t deny that I, too, fall victim to this, but I don’t understand it.  I should mention right now that this is not a cynical entry aimed at bashing the sacrament of marriage, but perhaps a little scrutiny is in order. 

The irony of the before mentioned situation with the girl Austin was that her parents, who had been married close to 30 years now, just recently filed for a divorce.  How do we as a society continue to cherish something that we have also made so fragile?  I don’t think we can blame movies for over-romanticizing something as wonderful and beautiful as two people committing eternal love and devotion to one another, but maybe we missed the part about how that love and devotion will be tested eventually (in the words of my very insightful Aunt Vicki, “forever is a long time, especially when you are talking about marriage”) and it’s our commitments that will force us to keep that love and devotion strong enough to pass.  In short, giving up and calling it off should never even be an available option.

But I cannot in good conscience chalk up the failure of marriages to laziness alone, and this brings me back to the archetype.  Marriage IS a beautiful thing, and I think that may also be the problem.  Love is an amazing (or many splendored) thing, and through it we can know passion, insanity, beauty, and sickness simultaneously, and marriage is, perhaps, one of the highest expressions of love.  Marriage makes love more tangible.  It allows us a way to show that we know personally that which is most coveted in this world.  Additionally, it provides security, support, synergy, and so on.  Who, then, would not want to have that? 

But patience, I’m told, comes with age.  We of the younger generation are, therefore, easily convinced that we need to get married as soon as practical, and finally get started on our real lives with our soul mates.  There is no way, however, to completely ensure that you have found your soul mate, so that part requires a discerning heart, something else I’m told comes with age.  I hope you see the predicament.

There are those on the other end of the spectrum, as well.  These are people whose experiences have made them cynical to the point where they refuse to rely on someone else to the extent marriage requires and, consequently, live their lives avoiding such a commitment.  Being less vulnerable to the horrible, however, generally makes us less susceptible to the fantastic.

I don’t know what the answer is, but I don’t think I am the only one confused as it’s these open ended questions that keep philosophers and writers gainfully employed.  I don’t even know if a happy medium is really an option, because we generally can either have our guards up or down with no middle ground.  In the end, I think we can all agree that marriage is hard work, but when it is good all the tough spots become worthwhile.

Posted by Sketch Newton at 09:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

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I like to think, especially of late, that my taste in music has changed, matured.  My preferences now drift toward the alternative while I cannot deny the lure of bluegrass or folk.  Even so, one song continues to affect me inexplicably. 

After nearly a decade of exposure, though, it amazes me that I do not tire of it—a song with which society has been no less than inundated, that most every frat boy can sing by heart (a characteristic many would claim is an indication that the song is played out), that far too many kids have destroyed on karaoke night (yet another indication, as no one sings good songs for karaoke…just “classics”).  So many qualities of this one song should put on the same level as MC Hammer or “the Final Countdown” by Europe—songs that people know yet laugh off as comical icons from another era.

Despite it all, there is something special and unnamed about Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’.”  When I hear those opening notes played by a solo piano something happens inside me, and I transform into a fist pumping, falsetto singing, air guitaring mad man.  Nothing can keep me from making a fool out of myself until the final chord is played.

This is of little consequence, however, as I am very seldom the only lunatic in the room.  Seriously, put the song to the test and I am sure you will find that so many of us want to sing the story of the “city boy born and raised in south Detroit.”  Simply go into a room, bar, or party and play DSB and wait.  If you can control your impulses long enough to look around the room, you will see it all happen.  Fists will reach skyward.  Eyes will be closed tightly as the singers strain to hit the high notes.  Relish in the unity brought on by the song, as my fellow crazy people are everywhere and of all ages and backgrounds.

I have watched as friendships blossomed between strangers singing together.  I have seen a carload of silent introverts traveling down the interstate burst into song with no provocation.  I have heard a DJ in Austin enjoy tumultuous applause for his remix of Journey’s anthem of love and perseverance, which, I must add, was AWESOME!

It doesn't always make sense ("streetlights, people, OH!" is by no means a complete thought, but rather two nouns and an interjection) and very few of us can actually sing the high notes of the chorus, but I must admit that Journey created something special when they wrote "Don't Stop Believin'."  While it is not necessarily understood, there is something hauntingly beautiful about this simple pop/rock song, and that, I feel is the secret to its staying power.

Posted by Sketch Newton at 05:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

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