MESSY MIDDLE FROM WHERE YOU START TO WHERE YOU FINISH

The messy middle waits for people in transition, just like writers in the dangerous second act.

Sometimes it drags out over a lifetime, sometimes a day.

The difference is awareness. It’s the messy middle. The middle is always messy.

From a story perspective lets take The Great Gatsby for the first example.

Act 1:

An unhappy kid wants more from life than what he sees in his future. Based on his parents he’s looking forward to the grind of farm toil and hardship.

Instead, he makes a plan of sorts, finds a mentor, and learns how to navigate his own way. Five years later the plans take a detour when the mentor dies and his money slips away.

Act 2:

The now more worldly Gatsby goes to war and back, meets another mentor with ‘gonnections’ and launches into the wild world of people and money with time to burn.

But before that he’s an officer in training with others who meet some of the locals where they are training.

We learn that Gatsby ‘knew women early’ but Daisy is the first ‘nice girl’ he’d met. And he swooned at the life he imagined with her.

A man in need of mentors, and who isn’t, Daisy personified the sort of perfection he needed. She was his dream, the sort of dream men carry to get them through hard times. He liked her, she liked him, they got together in what was described as ‘he took her.’

Then he went to war with his warm memory. He doesn’t come back in time to beat the clock when Daisy’s friends all married and carried on. So she found a suitable man, married him, and that was that. Not a good man, not a decent man, but the right man at the right time.

By the time Gatsby came back and joined the gang with ‘gonnections’ he had no chance with the married lady with a baby. But he persisted, bought a house with a view of hers, and weaseled his way into her life.

Act 3:

Daisy and Gatsby sneak around in a rekindled romance, things go wrong, more wrong, then even more wrong, until all that’s left is a memorial and tying up loose ends of regret and remorse.

Gatsby was great until his lady love mentor decided he wasn’t quite great enough to upend her life for him.

The Messy Middle Of The Great Gatsby And Your Mess

If you’ve had a girlfriend who got married to someone else, you feel for Gatsby.

The best thing to do in real life, not novel life, is wish everyone well and pay attention to those close to you. Let it go, bro.

Don’t keep tabs, search out, wonder what if . . .

And good luck with that.

My wife got a phone call from an old flame who wanted to tough base on his way through town.

He was no Jay Gatsby, but I was no Tom. My married game is strong. I explained how it wasn’t a case of ‘toughing base’ but a case of trying to unscrew a screwed up life.

My explanation didn’t go over. I was a jealous, small minded, small town hick.

To which I said, “Thank you very much. And I’m not calling old girlfriends for a meet-up.”

Wait, maybe I did. An old flame was passing through town and I did invite them to my house. Since they liked flowers in their Facebook posts, and I’ve got a kick-ass world class yard, I thought I’d share the beauty. So I invited them over for a cup of tea with the wife and me.

They said, “Why, so you can show your kids who their momma could have been?”

I took that as a no. Also a different way of saying no. But it was a good no.

I told my wife that seeing her old boyfriend might ruin any nice memories she’d carried since the last time they saw each other. Like being a fan of a band who mailed in a show and ruined the feeling of loving the music, former slick calling out of the blue was a red flag.

She said she didn’t see him, but learned later that he checked himself into re-hab when he got home. I said he needed that for a fresh start after three failed marriages. Seeing the former hippie dream king as a fat, bald, broken man would have been hard to live with.

Last Mess

Men and women who lash themselves to unworthy mentors need help.

If their dude is a lying, stinking, cheating son of a bitch they relate to from watching television, there’s a problem. If they dream of a rat bastard as their ideal, there’s a gap between reality and perception.

If it’s an elected official with a jacked up opinion of themselves as infallible, but lose their last election, there’s a bigger problem.

Listening to a grown man cry and cry and cry about how unfairly they’ve been treated gets old after the first time. Six months of it starts some to wonder if the bigger problem isn’t the con-man, but the conned.

The messy middle is where beliefs get tested. Start with your best foot forward, slop around in the middle, then finish strong.

Staying in the mess isn’t good for anyone. That’s not living life; that’s lying to others about what you’re trying to do.

If you’ve set goals and work toward them, you know your truth, where you want to go. Flopping around in the messy middle is part of the process, not the end result.

Get organized and carry one. Don’t rehash your failures hoping for success. Embrace the moment, loser, then find a way forward.

I’ll help the recount. One, two, buckle your shoes; three four, hit the door and stay out.