Dec

15

Between working 100 hours a week (which few do) and being a ski bum (which few also do) there lies the vast majority of people. Too many of them have ample opportunity to bring forth some of the songs inside them, but instead they fritter their time away and thus end up leading lives of quiet desperation.

It does not need to be so.

Chris Cooper writes:

I am lucky enough to do both. I spent a while as a ski bum when I was young. Later I did a stint of 6 years of 100-hour weeks. It paid off as I hoped, enabling me to be a ski bum again. Which I tried, and found that somewhere during that time I acquired some workaholic characteristics. So now I oscillate between taking it relatively easy, and working hard, and at the moment am working hard and wishing I could take it easy — but if I did, I would soon enough be restless again.


Comments

Name

Email

Website

Speak your mind

2 Comments so far

  1. Rich Berger on December 15, 2011 1:29 pm

    Yes there may be songs in many (there are in me and some have amused my immediate familty), but how many would be interesting to others. A lot of people hate Dylan.

  2. Don Chu on December 15, 2011 1:29 pm

    Indeed.
    “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.”

    But how many of us have the courage to be a Thoreau or a Bo Keeley, and sing and walk/step to the measure and pace of our own music:
    “If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.”

    Heaven’s mercies for the odd pencil-makers, dusty tramps and itinerant surveyors of woods and back-country amongst us.

    In the end, we are all travelers and sojourners on our own dusty trails:
    “A traveller! I love his title. A traveller is to be reverenced as such. His profession is the best symbol of our life. Going from _____ toward _____; it is the history of every one of us.”

Archives

Resources & Links

Search