Living the Mediocre Dream- The Sunday Collage

 Every once in a while, the question of "What would have been your dream job?" comes up. The last time I think- was during a game of trivial pursuit- now almost 20 years ago. 

"A defensive cornerback or safety in the NFL" was always my answer. There were only a few things stopping me from attaining my dream. A commitment or plan to study and work hard, my lack of speed, strength, and leaping ability. Hell, we moved twice during high school. I didn't even play football my junior or senior years.

But I got a taste of greatness. Once. 

So it was, I was relegated to mediocrity. A mediocre college, a mediocre trade school, a mediocre career as a lawman. I was alright with mediocre. In hindsight, I might not have even deserved mediocre.

I had no desire to conquer the world, skim hard working bank accounts like an investment banker. I had no money to buy or develop real estate or pirate the business world with some monopolized invention.

I had no clue what those things even were. Or even where you go to become one of those guys.

Instead, I knew mediocre. I was the son of a farmer, broadcaster, insurance man. My mother stayed home and raised us, back when that was still possible. My friends were the sons of miners. I would grow old with them or so I thought. Drink beer and laugh with them. Hunt with them. Get wrinkled and die with them. I would have been perfectly content.

I handled mediocrity quite well. I only made one mistake which cost me a wife, a house, a truck, and my job. Life it seems, can be quite nasty and unforgiving. But life at 46, was far from over. I would have enough time to bounce back. Mediocrity is always within reach. 

This week I attended a funeral. It was for a man, mid 60's, who had two sons that lived far away. He was depressed, alcoholic, and lived in his mother's basement by himself. He couldn't shake addiction, nor could he find mediocrity. Having tried and failed so many times, he wasn't about to try again. In his mind, he had lost everything. He had lost self-respect. That is a very dangerous place. 

With nobody to love, nothing useful to do, and nothing to look forward to.

The most dangerous person in the world, is the guy who loses everything and checks those 3 boxes. I knew that guy once. Gordon knew that guy, too. 

Most people don't know that guy and I hope you never do. 

I sat and listened to Gordon's service. I listened as everyone spoke kindly of Gordon. Kindness, it seems, is always reserved for the dead. 

I was surrounded by mediocrity at that funeral. No real wealth, no famous entertainers, no investment bankers. Just people trying to live their lives, doing the best that they could, with whatever tools had been bestowed upon them. I was overcome with a sense of gratitude. I was grateful for my simple life. My wife, my family, my house, my cars, my toys. The ability to come and go as I please. Grateful for my history.

I left that funeral feeling sorry for Gordon. Gordon simply couldn't find happiness- even in some mediocre fashion.

There is a very famous coach in Butte named Bill Patrick. The guy made you a winner, he was legend. He died several years ago. Coach Patrick coached football and volleyball for over 50 years. Before he died and during a newspaper interview once, they asked Coach Patrick in all of his decades of coaching, which team was his favorite.

He immediately answered with the 8th grade South Central boys football team, '74. My team. We only played 9 or 10 games a season. We went undefeated. I must have made 20 interceptions that year, ran at least half of them back for touchdowns. I think I had 4 in one game once. I was so proud that Coach Patrick, who has coached professional players, named that team as his favorite.

We moved from Butte that summer and I soon came back to earth in an enormous high school with a wealth of football talent. We moved again, my sophomore year. I was out of sorts with no friends and coaches who didn't seem all that interested in me. Slowly, it seemed, I was being relegated back to my humble beginnings and my mediocre life having had a taste of greatness- just once.

We can't all become doctors, NFL players, celebrities, or billionaires. Nobody will appear with a glossy brochure and ask you what sort of glamorous life you would like. Choose something you love, become good at it, and enjoy your life. 

I have a promising future behind me. I am grateful for that.

A piece of humor, along these lines, courtesy of The Onion.

NEW YORK—Saying that when he looked in the mirror, he no longer saw the man he once deceived himself to be, local man Ron Stockton, 37, told reporters Monday that over the years he had become just a shell of his imagined self. “Somewhere along the way, I lost sight of my [wholly invented] purpose, and the [completely untenable] dreams I had just slipped away,” said Stockton, who added that he worried he was failing to maintain the deep sense of personal integrity he had never actually managed to develop in the first place. “I don’t know what became of that [nonexistent hallucination of a] person I once was, that person who [I thoroughly deluded myself into believing] had so much promise. I honestly don’t understand what happened.” At press time, Stockton reported that he was feeling much better after taking some time to think things over, getting a good night’s sleep, waking up early the next day, and joining a cult.