Kind of an ode to slowing down our lives. By a writer who has to make his living writing fast. (Ah, the human situation!)
by David S. Simon
Okay here’s the thing: I’m already in a hurry to finish this piece and I just started it. Wait. Am I done yet?
Let me slow things down, which is what this little exercise in gymnastic style ineffectuality is all about.
Observation/thought: One man’s feeling is another man’s flaw.
I come to that phrase thinking about Paul Simon who when he was like 5 months old probably already had the soul of a 200 year old Mah Jung playing Florida retiree named Saul—especially if Saul was a once upon a time poet/warrior who still writes.
I bring up Paul for a reason. Some singers (think The Beatles for example) by the age of 19 or 20 already have the kind of insight into the human soul condition that usually doesn’t arrive to the shores of the average average person until they are well past the age of dead. And what’s even more incredible is the way we change and mature—over and over again but their songs of insight stays exactly the same, while it magically continues to morph and fit our ever expanding consciousness like a well tailored Saville Row suit.
Being a creative guy (I’m hard driven, TV, feature, play writing and film directing kind of compulsive person) and at the age that I am as of yesterday, I have finally realized that a huge part of my condition which is amply represented by a museum exhibit’s worth of neuroses and fears—all comes to one thing:
I am moving WAY too fast.
Even now. Right now. I’m thinking ahead, my thoughts racing like American Pharoh on Red Bull. I want to cry out: (Warning: baby boomer reference coming) “Jane! How do you stop this crazy thing??”