NOBODY FROM NOWHERE? SO FAR SO GOOD

Some people lament being a nobody from nowhere.

Not me.

I’ve heard enough big shots complaining about their loss of privacy to the point of living like a shut-in.

“I used to be able to go out with no one noticing. Now every time I leave the house is a big event.”

Who wants to be ON all the time?

The people I know and spend time with are never ON or OFF, and they never complain.

Somehow we manage to trudge on, past the glitz and glamour, without being noticed.

And, without wondering what that sort of life is like. Right?

It’s got to be weird seeing pictures and videos of yourself without remembering a camera around.

At least they got the good side?

I’ve seen enough familiar faces to notice a haunted look when they talk to a nobody from nowhere.

Like the time I recognized Matt Dillion when he was in town filming Drugstore Cowboy.

 

 

He wore a big coat, collar up, a knit hat pulled down low, crossing SE Hawthorne with another bundled up guy.

Me: Hey, Matt. How you liking Portland.

Matt: Love it.

Wife: Who are you yelling at?

Me: What? That was Matt Dillion

Wife: Who?

Me: The movie star.

Wife: How do you know.

Me: Honey, I called his name and he answered.

Wife: That could be anyone.

 

Or The Time I Saw A Famous Russian Ballerino In The Carriage Room

Many years ago there was a strip club called the Carriage Room on SW Broadway.

It was part of the Broadway Theater multiplex, which used to be a big screen theater for big screen movies like the Fox theater across the street had been.

You could walk in through the front, which meant passing through a restaurant, or take the side door.

On this particular day I was in the Carriage Room on museum business.

The place was scheduled to close for the big tear down and I was there to gather artifacts.

I got a tour of the underground dressing room, which seemed funny, a strip club dressing room.

Ten minutes later I was on the way out when a new dancer started their show.

To show my respect for the performing arts, I waited until she wrapped up to avoid being rude.

While I sat there I looked around the room.

Who goes to a strip club in the afternoon?

That’s when I noticed the famous dancer. I’d read he was in town in the morning paper, so I zipped out, got a copy, and asked the waitress to take it to him to sign.

I watched her go over to him, say something, and he looked my way.

 

I waved.

He and his buddy stood abruptly and quick-stepped out the door.

Can anyone be a nobody from nowhere if they so choose?

Not if I’m around.

Besides, I like to think they enjoy being noticed up here in the hinterlands of Portland.

 

Join The Masses

Let’s agree that we’re a part of the masses without joining anything.

We’re born, raised, and educated to find our way, the same as millions/billions of others before us, and those to come after.

It’s the time between ‘before’ and ‘after’ that’s the problem.

Too many people ask, “This is it?”

How can anyone say this is it when they want more? You want more, I want more.

More what?

If you don’t have a solid answer you’ll still get more of something.

You might like it, you might not, but it’s more than you started with.

If you do have a solid answer to ‘More what’ and still can’t find what you’re looking for?

Do you give up? Noooooooo.

Do you keep doing everything the same way? Noooooooo.

Like the million/billions have always done, you adapt, you evolve, you change.

If you don’t, won’t, or can’t? ‘Things happen.’

Maybe you lose your unique point of view.

 

 

Maybe you get anxious, more anxious than usual.

 

 

Or maybe, just maybe, you learn how to connect the dots that make a picture of the life you want to live.

 

 

PS: If you’re doing the best you can, and still find everything lacking and drifting away? That’s normal.

 

PSS: If you find yourself in a booth with margaritas, Mexican food, and your buddies? That’s somebodies from somewhere having a good time. It’s not that complicated.

 

PSSS: If you’re talking about writing and stories and timelines? I’ll be there.

And I might save my leftovers in a go-box and forget to take it with me. Oops.