October 1, 2017 — Again, I had another week with a bunch of influences. I’m going to start in reverse order. I wrote one of those little post-it notes on the wall I write to myself. This one has three words: Let It Go. You see, I hang on to things, worry about things, try to change things. In my family only two things are valued, money and whether you can do differential equations, and they might be the same thing because if you know differential equations then you might be able to be like Elan Musk. I’m challenged in both areas. Honestly, I’m last on the list of people who are taken seriously. I never hear any questions about how I am, of course, it’s probably because it’s always the same. A struggle. Too much of a struggle. I wrote the note because I’m trying to tell myself to stop worrying, especially about things that I can’t change. Let it go. It really is the only answer.

My influence before that: the fact that two different judges can come to two completely different rulings based on exactly the same law and the same facts, of course, in a matter where the client is the worst person in my life, think probability of getting sued. Oh how I wish I could have the certainty of a differential equation in my life. I would love to be able to plug in data and get an actual answer. I swear this is harder — having everything I do and everyone around me acting subjectively, all for themselves, all the time. But what do I know? Nothing. I can’t do a differential equation.

Least you think this is some pity party I’m on, rest assured it’s not. It’s me knowing I have to change a lot of things. Mind you, I don’t really know how, but I know I have to, and I know the first step. Let it go.

My influence before that – my trip to San Diego. It was a work trip, but the person I was with (one of those hip people of the world) didn’t want to get caught up in traffic, so we stayed after the meeting. He drove around showing me all the entertainment clubs of San Diego, the nightlife areas. As a part of that, we went to look at a location that he and a friend are thinking of turning into some sort of a nightclub. It is a church with not much going on right now. We met up with the friend, whom I’ve run into before and who ran some other club there, and I learned that friend has a day job – working as a manager of a grocery store. Nice guy, looks at me like I’m not hip. Of course. I’m not hip. I also can’t do differential equations. Seriously, I’m wondering exactly where I fit in.

Clubs in churches. It’s not a new thing. The Hard Rock Café, when there was one in Dallas, was in a church. I remember thinking that was hip. I don’t know what happened to it, but in a conversation with my brother while driving last week, I passed the former Methodist Church on Fairfax (a street in Los Angeles, known for either being in a predominantly Jewish part of town, or there, a predominantly gay part of town), the church prominently featuring a “for lease” sign. My mother was a Methodist, so I feel some affiliation to that church, not that particular one, but I always said I was going to go it, just because. I never did. Apparently, not many people did either, given that “for lease” sign. Poor little church. But it has pretty windows, really pretty windows, at least from the outside. I said to my brother, I wish I had the money to lease it, to make it a club … a club for rock ‘n’ roll. My brother reminded me of that Hard Rock Café. He told me it’s not there anymore. Then I thought to myself, knowing that what I pass all throughout these neighborhoods are billboards for DJs at Hakkasan or Omnia, huge clubs in Vegas, nobody would come, nobody would come to my club in a church. Rock is dying. Where do you park at that church anyways? Probably that’s why it went out of business, the parking, or lack thereof. But man if that wasn’t what I was thinking the entire time in San Diego; I was thinking about the “for lease” Methodist church on Fairfax.

My friend in San Diego and his friend with the day job were talking about their plans for their venue, the demographics for that church-turned-club venue. My friend said he wanted to cater to the older folks with families, play piano music. I just listened, knowing these older people actually like classic rock, but you know, I’m not hip. And in case you don’t remember, I can’t do differential equations either. The San Diego friend is enamored with DJs. They are thing, a real thing; you know the billboards that are everywhere? He wanted whatever worked to make the club make money, but once a month, “let’s get someone like Armin [Van Burren] in here”, he said. Armin is a major DJ, major. So that’s just some hip person wanting what he believes is hip, and for that matter, what all of those billboards think are hip. The entire time, as I looked through the doors of the church, I was imagining my Methodist church that I’ve never even peered in. Well, I can’t actually do it. I can barely pay my house payment, but I was imagining it. And I was imagining music I like … even though I’m not hip, even though I can’t do differential equations, of course with a mile of doubt filing my head, the words I tell myself about how “I can’t” filing my head.

Then there was  my normal influence — the music news I look for. Somewhere I read that Justin Timberlake was the likely performer for the half-time show at the Superbowl. Normally I don’t get too excited for those performances, excluding Lady Gaga’s last year because I knew she was going to do something really good. I checked my normal Lana Del Rey Twitter. She announced a 20+ date U.S. tour. There’s South American and an Australia date too. All of the shows are in major venues. My Lana has grown up, it seems. For me, that’s usually a turning point. I’m always proud, but those shows lose something. I was very thankful I saw her in what will likely be the last smallish venue. And that leaves the last influence, the one that tied it all up. Movies.

La La Land. I saw the movie before. I had a girl’s night at my friend’s house while her husband was in Vegas at a bachelor party, probably seeing a DJ. Her husband looks like the lead in this movie, by the way. So I know why she feels an extra kinship with this movie. I cheated too; I knew the ending of the movie because the ending came up in my Youtube feed before as a suggestion, and I had already watched it. But even knowing the ending, I saw the message of the movie only by watching the entire movie, a message that isn’t entirely clear just from watching that scene alone. The message is an interesting one for anyone who ever had a dream. The message was that one’s dream can cause you to lose your ability to love the person you love. The first time watching was sad, but this time, I came away a bit more hopeful because I saw this theme of both characters in that movie encouraging each other to live their dreams, to give everything they have to their dreams, and in both cases, their dreams come true. You can guess what happens to their relationship because the movie was nominated for Best Picture, and for some reason, it’s impossible for a relationship to survive in that category. At least nobody dies because that’s usually what they do in “good” movies, kill off one of the couple. Seriously though, I think of them as lucky … because they had each other for encouragement in the time they needed, and the nostalgia of the last scene aside, they got what they wanted. It’s a beautiful movie too, with another message I’d like to touch on later.

Yesterday night, after having worked way too hard on things I didn’t want to do and being a bit sad about my lack of skills in differential equation problem solving and completely stressed about what will come for me this week, I sat down to watch my one of my four channels I’m able to get with my ill-pointed satellite dish. This movie wasn’t the caliber of La La Land, but was on the same channel, perhaps itself a message. The movie was called The Rookie. I saw enough, seriously, you don’t need to see the entirety. It was the story of a high school baseball coach, living as most of us with dreams do, and that is living for obligations, discover that he could throw a 98 mph fast ball. It’s the story of him, a true story, this time with the support of his wife, becoming a relief pitcher in the minors, then going on to play in the majors. It’s the story of following a dream, even with a life of obligations. Mind you, his relationship was the polar opposite of the one in La La Land, and a happy thing in this movie, so I doubt it was a nominee for Best Picture, although my research tells me that in reality, they got a divorce. That makes me wonder, but then again, that’s an entirely different subject.

I’ve had dreams. I don’t live them. I know I’ve said it before; I’ve said I’ll live my dreams when I get everything paid for, when I have the freedom do something other than just work. I can’t throw a 98 mph ball, but sitting with people who think they know what’s hip, or listening to what it means to be smart, is really starting to take its toll. I’m not sure what message is correct between those two movies, but they both have a consistent one. Dreams. If you have one, you really do need to do it. The consistent part of both was the support these people had. I wonder though. What if you don’t have it? What if the world thinks of you as their supporting character? That’s what I am. I am everyone’s supporting character. I’m not hip enough for the hip. The rich take advantage. Judges are inconsistent. Most people tell me what to do. Whenever I think something is going to happen, it doesn’t. Oh, and I can’t do differential equations.

I don’t know if I really want a club in a church, but I’d like to think if that’s what I did want, I wouldn’t dismiss it just because I don’t have any money or for the whole host of other reasons that popped in my head. I’d like to think I could do my day job, like the guy working in the grocery store for his money, but still be serious enough, have enough belief in myself to actually take myself seriously and follow the dream. No, I can’t do differential equations. But I can do somethings, and I can even do things that don’t have answers based in formulas. And I’m going to figure out a path for me. Now. Before everything is paid for. I’m just going to have to work at it, really work at it all, and not be the scared person I actually am. And oh my goodness, the first step is just so simple. All this stuff where I tell myself it can’t be done, or it’s for later, or I don’t have a support system, not even the faulty one like in La La Land (which I thought of as good, not at all the message one was supposed to take from the movie), all of that … Let it Go.