“Every person born in this world represents something new, something that never existed before, something original and unique.”
Martin Buber
“Every man is more than just himself; he represents the unique, the very special and always significant and remarkable point at which the world’s phenomena intersect, only once in this way and never again.”
Hermann Hesse, Prologue to Demian (1919)
“At Yale, when he was young and headstrong, he’d been sure that one day he’d be the very axis of the world, that his life would be one of deep impact. But every young man thought that. A condition of youth, your own importance. The mark you’d make upon the world. But a man learns sooner or later. You take your little niche and you make it your own.”
Colum Mc Cann, Let the Great World Spin, pg. 253
“What did I know of life, I who had lived so carefully? Who had neither won nor lost, but just let life happen to him? Who had the usual ambitions and settled all too quickly for them not being realized?”
Julian Barnes, The Sense of an Ending, Pg. 155
“For years, many of us lost our sense of individuality, adhering to the monotony of the masses and forfeiting all semblances of our true selves….We grew up looking for acceptance rather than our voice. We reached for mediocrity when we should have been reaching for that unique thing that would set us apart.”
Lauren Martin, “16 Signs You’re an Individual…”
Whether we’re even aware of it, I believe that most of us are trying to find our niche in life. To stake out what defines who we are. What it is about us, or about what we do, that sets us apart from the rest of humanity. What distinguishes us? What skills or attributes do we possess that make us different from (and, more “special” than) others out there? And, if we are the type to brag, what would it be that we brag about? In essence, what do we want to be known for?
It seems to me that every human being, in some fashion, seeks to carve out an area of his or her own, where they hope to achieve a certain level of success; where they are able to determine something that they are very good at or something about themselves that is distinctive and different. Sometimes it’s a particular skill set that they possess, or the kind of person they (think that they) are. Perhaps, in their inner circle of friends, they have the reputation as a fine cook, or someone who decorates their home exquisitely and with great taste. Possibly, they have always had the mechanical aptitude to solve any automotive service issue. Maybe it’s the pride that they feel about the neighborhood they live in, the job they have, the car they drive or the college that they attended, and how that somehow sets them apart. Perhaps they believe that how they have handled child-rearing is where they’ve made their mark. It can even be the interesting, unusual or famous people that they know, or have had a chance to rub elbows with. Ultimately, I believe, people are seeking to prove to themselves that their lives have special meaning and that they are making a contribution to society.
In our own way, we are attempting to grab a hunk of history. To set some positive distance between our achievements, our skills, our possessions and those of our “competitors” in the human race. As Emerson wrote: “Every individual strives to grow and exclude and to exclude and grow, to the extremities of the universe, and to impose the law of its being on every other creature.” We want to assert our particular “specialty,” to establish a bulkhead on which to solidify our credentials. And, while we may not have considered it at the time, I feel that most of us, at least subconsciously, crave some uniqueness about our life that will help us begin to put into place a personal legacy of sorts. An acknowledgement that becomes, over time, what we as individuals stand for.
I suppose that this striving for what defines each of us may reach a point where we become aware of what we can realistically achieve in terms of accomplishments and self image. I don’t mean it in a negative way, but at some stage — perhaps after years and years of the good fight — we may find ourselves having to “settle” for a somewhat lesser version of our personal image. Sometimes, we must accept that while we have attempted to make a big mark on the world, in reality, we have not reached that level. The Army slogan for years has been: “Be all that you can be.” And, it should be our personal motto as well. But, if you’ve made the effort and the upper echelon still eludes you, then that is not failure; it is simply an eventual realization of what each of us is ultimately capable of. And that is still a degree of success.
My thought is that no matter our success or our lack of success (I won’t call it failure), if we still have a feeling, an instinct, that our capabilities, our interests and our skills lie in a particular direction, it would be a mistake to completely abandon them. At certain junctures in our lives, we may be inclined to accept the status that society, or even our friends, apply to us. And, we may find ourselves relegated to a categorization of who we are. I think it’s always important to embrace your real self and to never cast aside what it is that makes you unique.
Sometimes that unique, personal identity that we end up with is the result of how others see us, how we see ourselves or often a combination of both. Obviously since I’ve decided to tackle this topic, I have a few ideas about it. And consequently, I’ve given some thought as to what yours truly stands for. Not that you asked for it, but I’d like to share with you my own insights into what’s so “special” about me, how I think I’m thought of, and how I feel that I may be remembered. Okay, so maybe “special” is not the word I should use. “Unique” is probably more appropriate. Of course, years ago, my wonderful Italian mother told my then-new wife that I (her son, Frankie,) was “perfect.” Certainly I’m not so self-centered and egotistical to ever believe that about myself. But anyway, as a wise person once said: “Being unique is better than being perfect.”
I feel that when people “think” of me, one of the first things that will come to mind for many of them is “Frank’s barn.” Though it may seem superficial to pin a major part of one’s own legacy on a simple man cave, I really feel that the old building did, in many ways, become synonymous with moi. How, you ask, can that be?
First, the barn became, over many years, a vehicle for my various collections: from beer caps and wine corks simply piling up in a crate, to cigar labels, pint glasses, vintage beer bottles, church keys, beer trays, beer and whiskey signs, bar taps, Lindbergh paraphernalia; I could go on. People who know me well know that I have saved everything for years. And, many of those items found their way into the barn. They reflected my likes, interests and attachments. In a lot of ways, the barn was me and I was the barn.
It was a 350 square foot place that showcased the diversity of my interests: there were two walls of sports collectibles, one wall of Charles Lindbergh collectibles (we lived on Lindbergh Rd.), as well as a full bookcase. Also, an entire bar area, filled from floor to ceiling (literally) with beer, wine and liquor collectibles. And, with the occasional political piece thrown in. Not to mention an eight-foot pool table.
Finally, I think that the look and feel in the barn conveyed the welcoming spirit that I hoped always came across to my guests. To me, there was nothing more enjoyable than being out there, shooting pool, watching a game on TV or just having a drink with family and friends. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the “playfulness” factor that was often on display in the cave. My kids can remember the homemade mannequin that I created out of long johns stuffed with newspapers. During the early years, it sat atop a big, oak wine barrel in one corner. It sported a Jason hockey mask and was saddled down with all kinds of sportswear and sports equipment. I got a kick out of having it in the barn, and Josh was always spooked when he went out there and forgot that ‘Jason” was hovering nearby. Others will remember that I also had another, more traditional mannequin — a blond-haired, tee-shirt-wearing, baseball-cap-sporting female. Despite her mannequin status and inability to make small talk, I always felt that Suzie was a draw for my “customers,” and that we did better bar business on nights when she was behind the stick.
So that’s the barn part of who Frank is (and someday, was). But man does not live (or die) by his man cave alone. There must be other factors that make up a life, that stand for that life, and that make such a life memorable. I’ll begin, then, with what I feel are my most positive tendencies. I know this is going to sound braggadocios, but don’t worry, I’ll follow up with my negatives just in a bit.
I think I am unselfish and quite willing to share what I have with those I know and love (okay, so maybe except for certain desserts). I think I am generous (being a consistently BIG tipper for great service.) I think I am a solid communicator (after all, I spent many years as a professional doing such.)
I think that fatherhood is the most blessed experience that has ever happened to me. Others, including my sons, can determine how successful or not that I’ve been at it. However, most people who know me have heard me say countless times over the years that there was nothing more important to me than my children.
I think I have the ability to make people laugh, smile if not laugh, and barely suppress a smile if not groan. Through a lifetime of trial and error, I have discovered that sometimes one has to be corny, or at least open to silliness, in order to land a truly funny remark. As many know, I have accepted that challenge, taken the risk, and at times, have failed miserably.
I think (and this is a serious one, so pay attention) that we need to look out for the most vulnerable among us. I also think I am a person who must picture “things” working out if I truly expect them to work out in the long run. I try not to picture failure and to always expect positive results.
Now, let’s get to the tendencies on the dark side of the ledger. I’m going to make this quick. Okay, so some days I can be a bit whiney (or needy, as my wife says.) I can be indignant sometimes at the rude and uneducated actions of people.(“I was the wrong person to do that to.”) I am easily annoyed when people don’t just do what they’re supposed to do. I can hold a grudge like my sainted mother (but only if someone really deserves it.) Oh, and to top it off, I can be a royal pain in the butt (again, ask my wife.) Now, that didn’t seem so bad after all. Or, maybe it’s because I covered it so quickly. At any rate, that’s me: the good, the bad and the ugly. I’ve provided you with a litany of traits, tendencies and interests — some of which will define me, and might well cause folks to remember me.
But in conclusion, I guess the following is what I’d want the old epitaph to state (you can start etching the granite right now).
Frank hopes that he will always be remembered as:
• a devoted son
• a loving husband
• a nurturing father
• a caring grandfather
• a supportive brother
• a loyal friend
• a professional colleague
• a responsible citizen
• a conscientious human being
Oh, and he wasn’t bad at his job either…
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Resonance 