Well, it wasn't too far fetched that I wouldn't be published in Esquire's "What I've Learned" issue this year. Looking over the magazine though, I can't blame them for not taking my stuff too seriously. I'll have to be thinking more along the lines of quick memorable quotes when I try this again.
I'm going to hold to
my word though - here's what I offered up. I've garnished it with a black and white photo, just to get that magazine flavor. I'd like to make it annual thing, but clearly Esquire has the market cornered on the concept, so I'm just going to change the name and try to involve more of the people I personally know from year to year. I already have the photo shoot planned for my brother next year, and maybe I'll get some more people involved. Sounds fun!
Lessons Learned : Ian Alexander CastruitaStarving Artist/Writer and Delivery Driver, 28, Tempe
My little brother Max is really cool about making me feel important when he visits. I don't think he'd admit it, but when he stops by to eat my food and play Xbox all weekend, he starts off by filling me in on his life and the escapades of the family I don't live with anymore. What's hilarious sometimes is that I will be walking around the house, doing things like laundry and sometimes even sitting at my computer - obviously busy with my illustrations or my other work, and he just follows along, spouting information about school, Mom and Pop, our sister, video games, and stuff he saw on the Internet.
If I had my iPod on, I would swear he's a podcast.
So, being a big brother, I have a bad habit of tuning him out occasionally. I don't really mean to, but these habits are ingrained in me from years of ignoring him when I had things to do. Just recently, I told him that I had a strong inclination to order him to get me a drink from the kitchen; normally he wouldn't be there and I'd happily pour myself something, but his mere presence invokes my older sibling sub-routines...he must do my bidding. I didn't tell him to get me something of course, it just didn't seem like something I'd feel comfortable doing anymore. So, just like I try to avoid making him remember I can totally still beat him up since I'm older than him, and just like I don't try to order him around anymore, I also try very hard to avoid the habit of tuning out my little bro when he's talking to me.
This sort of segues into the point I'm getting at. Ok, ok, it's a very clunky segue, but bear with me, I'll make it make sense.
Cable reruns of Bill Murray's Groundhog Day have helped make me a better person.
You see, my little brother was telling me about his ethics class that he's taking at ASU West, and he said that all he does is watch movies and television shows and then talk about the ethical issues brought up. For example, they watched the Simpsons episode where Homer stole cable and then discussed stealing. Max also said that they watched Groundhog Day and then discussed how Murray's character, Phil Connors, sought out "higher" rewards toward the end of the film.
That's when I was hit with a connection I could never have made on my own. I wouldn't say I was hit by lightning or anything, but what Max had done was literally plant an idea that I couldn't escape. It was like a song you hear and it forever plays in the back of your mind, sometimes obtrusively, sometimes welcomed, but always persistently there. That idea - that I was living out my own Groundhog Day reality...I had somehow started pursuing "higher" rewards myself.
It's almost sick to think that I'm this impressionable, yet it makes sense to me looking back. Almost every time I'd come across the film on my cable guide, I'd say to myself, "Hey, there's something to watch." Now, how many times has that thing played on cable? It's like the Life Is Beautiful of my generation...seemingly always on at least once a year, if not more. And you know cable channels, that thing will play three or four times a week. Little did I know that I was being subliminally programmed to better myself every time nothing else was on television. Devious...absolutely devious.
So here I am suddenly learning to play the piano. Each time I watched Groundhog Day, I'd secretly want to be Phil Connors just so I could be playing the piano, but never would do anything about it because I knew that it would take at least ten years for me to be worth listening to. Yet, when I started learning this past year, it didn't seem to matter how long it took anymore. You know why I think that is? Because it suddenly only mattered to me, and it didn't matter what other people were going to think when they hear me butcher Paganini.
I can't get over the description that Rita gave Phil about the type of guy she wants; someone who plays an instrument, speaks another language, etc., etc. - I find myself trying to be that person just as much as Phil eventually became that person. It has almost become a formula to follow for me to eventually find that perfect girl for myself. I actually turned away women this past year because I got to know them better and thought we were both looking for different things from each other. I guess I can take some solace in that I'm still somewhat of an card carrying asshole because I wondered why I didn't just have my one night stands or whatever, but at least my conscience is a bit healthier for my acts, if not my thoughts. Now, if I were actually living out Groundhog Days over and over again, I doubt I could say that I would have made the same choices; so I guess I'm not as good a person as I'd like to believe the movie has made me.
And truth be told, I'm miles away from ever buying every insurance policy I can from any annoying person that approaches me, I'm not above dressing up as Clint Eastwood when I take my dates to the movies, if I see a bunch of old ladies with a flat tire - I'll assume the auto club will take care of it without me, and Andie MacDowell is just not my type. Maybe I should strive to learn even more from Groundhog Day's example, but hey, baby steps. Oops, wrong Bill Murray flick...didn't mean to cross the streams there.
Going back to my segue though; When it comes to my own life, I've started to do things like pay closer attention to my little brother, and even ignore the impulse to order him around. I don't know if I can blame that on the movie, but I can certainly say that if it wasn't for doing those things, I wouldn't have realized that something I used to watch for a chuckle was actually showing me ways to be a better person.
-ic
"Phil: Do you ever have deja vu Mrs. Lancaster?
Mrs. Lancaster: I don't think so, but I could check with the kitchen."
To the side I've put the image from the front of this year's Christmas card, which I plan on making available for download later next year, along with all my other Christmas cards from years past. The hope is that people will be interested in using the cards as an alternative to the regular Hallmark fare. I'm thinking of a donation system to start off with, but should the opportunity arise that I can sell these and make them part of the regular Hallmark fare...heh, well, I'll probably sell out and do it.
