Finality

Recently, LA has felt more like a revolving door than a city of angels. Monique’s move to Spain sparked the trend in 2007, and I’ve recently lost several people to the cities where they grew up: Boston, Chicago, Virgina Beach. Last weekend I learned that a good bud, Mr. Justin Ruane, experienced an epiphany and is headed back to the Windy City.

I know the decision hasn’t been easy for him. His sights were set high on a career in film. He certainly has the talent and drive to be successful in film, unfortunately, the entertainment industry is often more about luck and timing than ability and credentials.

Whenever I face an end to something I care about, whether that be an experience, relationship or adventure, I think of the song “God” by John Lennon. The finality of the song has always struck me. “The dream is over, what can I say?.....I was the walrus, but now I am John. And so dear friends, you’ll just have to carry on.” The Beatles were broken up, and John had moved on: physically, emotionally, and spiritually. He was totally done. I can’t imagine how Beatles fans must have felt to hear him say those words. The band that shaped rock and roll, shaped the world, was broken up forever and John had no desire to relive the Beatles days ever again. It's a sad song because he seems to be so set on the fact that it’s over. The idea that he left the greatest band in history with a sour taste in his mouth made it even harder to swallow for fans.

Finality seems to be a continuing theme in my life recently. I’m not a fan of it. The fact of the matter is, when Ruane packs up his car and begins the drive away from the setting sun, that’s it, it’s over. We might have had a few good times in LA; we might have had millions. Either way, there aren’t going to be any more. The ship has sailed. The book has closed. If you think about it for long enough, it can be pretty depressing.

We’ve hit the age when experiences, relationships and adventures are coming to an end. Growing up, there was no need to end things because you never knew what you might want to do the following day. You didn’t end friendships because you might see that person again in high school or college or after graduation. Life seemed full of adventures and the possibilities were endless.

I think it might be the quarter life crisis that so many of us are experiencing, but people seem to be ending chapters of their life. Moving away, settling down with one girl, ending relationships with old friends because you realize you don’t have that much in common anymore and you simply don’t have the time to create something new. Whatever it is, it seems like the things and people we care about are becoming fewer and fewer. And this is taking place at an alarming rate.

Call it loyalty or a soft side for nostalgia, but I much prefer to hold onto a part of those things that were once so important to me. I might move away, but I’ll want to do reunion trips to relive those great times. We might not ever talk on the phone, but I’ll keep you in my cell in case I’m passing through your town so we can grab a drink. And instead of goodbye and good luck, I like to echo the words of one of my favorite actors and say “See you on down the road” when I’m entering a situation of finality. Maybe I will and maybe I won’t, but I think it’s better to leave the door open instead of closing it entirely.