Dear Friends,
I watched one of my favorite movies tonight: Dirty Dancing (do not tell me I’m predictable). I wasn’t even born when it came out. But, there’s something about the music, the moves, the charm, and the tongue-in-cheek simplicity that sets those Catskills on fire. Or wherever the hell they are. (Does any one actually know?) The truth is, no one seems to care about location in movies. They just care how pretty it is, how big the budget was, and how smooth Patrick Swayze’s pelvic thrusts are.
Which begs the question: What happened to good, solid effort? Swayze earned those thrusts, did he not? What happened to it? When we watch movies, why don’t we think about how much the actors have to give up in their personal life to go on this location and shoot, secluded from their friends and family. Why don’t we care about the camera crew, and the behind-the-scenes action that has to happen to set this movie in motion? Is it not important enough to us? We certainly waste 120 minutes (at least) of our lives watching these peoples’ work. So why don’t we care about them? Because people somehow stopped qualifying effort. I don’t know when, and I don’t know why, but they did.
We all used to try harder when things mattered less. We wanted to ace the spelling bee, we wanted to get a 95% on our vocabulary test. We busted our asses to get into college (in a good economy, mind you). We worked hard to write that college essay – to make sure that the beloved gatekeepers, the same gatekeepers who granted Mark Zuckerberg access into Harvard, wouldn’t be able to shut us down. Then, we go to college and we joined groups, clubs, specific schools, Greek life. We did all these things to “create” our oh-so original “persona.” Because we cared. And some of us, still care. But sometimes in life, more often than I’d like to see, you meet that person who’s an actor. Who means well, but can’t quite make it to the spelling bee. But he looks like a great speller. He really, really wants to win the spelling bee one day, and the next day lets himself forget/be distracted/be irresponsible such that he turns around and says, “What spelling bee?” Suddenly, you realize you’ve just gone on a date with someone who was once enthusiastic, and then you have to remind them to care. You feel fooled. You feel like a loser. You feel crossed. And, in the back of your mind, you feel kinda nuts. “Did last weekend really happen,” you might ask yourself. “Was I blowing it out of proportion? Was it something I did or said? Or did I commit the ultimate error and be genuine with somewhat of a stranger?” G-d forbid, right?
I have to say, screw that. I am a person who really wants to go to the spelling bee, and really wanted to get into college, and really wants to write another book. I am someone who will keep telling you that for the next week, month, year, because when a genuine person is genuinely interested in something, it takes a whole hell of a lot longer than a week to fizzle. So make sure you’re genuine because if you are, you will eventually ward off the irresponsible shmucks who change their mind every day, and bite off more than they can chew. And if you’re lucky, you’ll see their mouths are full in one week or less. (And if you don’t, write a blog post about them). 🙂
But promise me two things: don’t be afraid to give ’em energy, said my Uncle Monte, an incredibly smart man (and flirt), and also, don’t be afraid to be genuine with your heart.
Kisses,
Jessica
