Day whatever

I can't recall the number of times my father would return home from a day at the office, strip to his boxers and sleeveless T-shirt, and slump into his dining room chair, his head in his hands, trying to fathom what had gone so terribly wrong.  He had studied hard, loved his chosen field of work, and had excelled to become one of the premiere financial strategists in the banking industry. But unlike most of his colleagues, he believed firmly that one could and should succeed primarily (if not solely) on his merits.  Without schmoozing, without contrived fishing trips, without having to listen to the bosses make misogynist jokes around the water cooler. But at every turn, his best ideas were suppressed, ignored, or stolen. I can still remember the names: Dick Boylan, Roger Hillis, Jim Balog. Snakes and liars. Men without vision. They clawed away at him, chewed away at his guts, and killed his hope.

I wish I could say that dad came thru. That he found a way to be honored for his achievements. I wish I could. And I wish I could say I never repeated his mistakes. Never became emotionally invested in my own ideas. 

You were probably hoping for some pithy funny ending. Can't help you.

Best I can do is to quote the words engraved on the headstone of the poet and novelist Charles Bukowski...

DON'T TRY

Comments

[Bob T]

All I can say is "WOW"!!!...heavy stuff !

[Sarah]

Now *that* was depressing, even for you. Seriously, things are not that bad.

"Don't try" is not something you want to teach your daughter, is it? And Bukowski had success (eventually) as a drunken poet, so that saying kinda doesn't mean shit except maybe, "Ha, ha...I didn't try and I succeeded anyway, so fuck you."

I'm getting worried about you, man.

[Charlie]

Just where I'm at.

I think Buk meant that he didn't go thru all the hopscotch and hulahoops of courting a career. He was quite prepared to die unknown and alone. There's a certain freedom in that. Fame, in the end, found him, tho he did his best to alienate those who tried to help him. Ultimately, he was very very lucky that his publisher John Martin stuck with him.

My dad was the opposite of Buk is almost every way. He played by the rules and expended a great deal of effort on just about everything. He couldn't even buy a toaster without a week's worth of research on the best models (pre-internet time). But ultimately, he was thwarted at every turn. And it broke him.

[Celeste]

I think there's something to it. Zen Buddhists talk about how the cause of suffering is attachment--to ideas, outcomes, etc. I think Don't Try relates to crazy-making attachments. I have nothing good to say about office life; I draw a lot of Shawshank parallels to it.

We are all thwarted at something in this life. I don't see anything wrong with acknowledging it.