What moves those of genius, what inspires their work is not new ideas, but their obsession with the idea that what has already been said is still not enough.
~ Eugene Delacroix
A few things come to mind . . .
September, 1997. Minneapolis, Minnesota. I can ascertain the date precisely because I was on my way to see David Fincher’s The Game. My wife and kid (I only had one at the time) were up north visiting her parents, so I took a friend at work up on his invitation to meet up at the Mall of America. Dinner and a show. Having grown accustomed to the humdrum and predictable life of a father and husband in a city with few friends, I jumped at the opportunity to get out and do something with someone who didn’t nag me about my choice in movies or spit food at me. A few discretionary dollars were burning a hole in my pocket. And then Seal came on the radio . . .
But we’re never gonna survive unless we get a little crazy . . .
Crazy felt like the order of the day. So I walked up the first kiosk I saw and got my ear pierced.
2006? Fort Wayne, Indiana. This date is a little harder to pin down. I had hooked up with a friend from my youth after finding out he lived only about an hour away. We’d get together to go sing karaoke or just sit and talk about our own Glory Days together, of tromping through the corn field behind his house listening to Motley Crüe’s Shout at the Devil on cassette, of hours spent watching Friday Night Videos, of terrorizing our sisters, or of simply lounging on the deck by his pool, soaking up the sun. While visiting one evening, we hopped in my Honda, drove to town to eat gyros, and ended up at Tip Top Tattoos on Crescent Avenue. Just to look around, of course. But then the old “I dare you!” mindset kicked in, and we both walked out with one of these . . .
Supposedly, these Chinese symbols represent my wife’s initials, and they are permanently etched above my heart. What they really mean remains a mystery . . .
And then there’s The Wall. Just this past summer. Full disclosure: I made it about ten feet up and then slipped off a foothold and scraped my elbow quite raw. I hung there for a few seconds, tethered and bruised, and then told them to let me down. Ten feet. Hardly an accomplishment. But for me? Just getting on that wall?
Crazy . . .
There are those who live lives completely the opposite of mine, where every day is an adventure. They are young and experience things at breakneck speed. They make me tired.
But there are also those just like me. They have been around the block a few times. Some have families. Some live very quiet lives and shun the spotlight. But all of them have that spark for a bit of craziness.
This week, I’m bringing you their stories. I’ve asked a few friends to share with me, and you, a bit about their own quest to slake their thirst for the crazy. For we all do it occasionally. Step out of the routine and make plans to do something so beyond our own comprehension. More importantly, beyond plans, we sometimes carry through. We get “Just a little crazy.” And it feels good.
You know I don’t often post daily. And some of you have gotten used to that, checking back once a week or so to see what foolishness I’m rambling about. But this week, I ask you to make this site a daily priority. Not only will you get to read some quality writing from some of my favorite bloggers, but you might find a bit of inspiration. That’s what I’m looking for. And these folks deliver.
See you tomorrow . . .