Monday, March 06, 2006

Big Headed Loser

The Oscars were on TV last night in case you failed to notice - and most of us did. What used to be the highlight of my entertainment year has, unfortunately, lost a lot of its zing lately. Hollywood seems to be in a funk, but its so hard to tell if the movies are as bad as I think because I go to so few of them now that the price is like $40 a ticket (or whatever it is). The movies might be the same, but the odds are that my bad movie percentage has gone way up.

I think ever since I was a little kid I've imagined myself getting up there and accepting an Oscar for something - acting, directing, music, writing, editing, producing, whatever... Its been a fun daydream. But unlike most other people, I've never actually won anything, anywhere. I've never had my moment to shine.

I was never good at school. And when I was good at school, teachers just kept piling more work on me, and then I'd fall back to the pack. I ran - but I never won any awards. I sang - but I was always the other guy, never the lead. And even when I was the lead, it was because there was no competition (I was the right age for the part). I wrote, but other kids got awards. I did all sorts of things, but glory was never mine. I began to accept the fact that I was mediocre, at best. Call it a bad case of low self esteem, or reality, either way, I didn't achieve a damn thing.

It certainly wasn't for a lack of trying. I always throw myself into everything I do with dreams of glory. Heck, this Novel I'm writing is probably not nearly as good as I think it is. But that's okay. Because I wrote it, I have very low expectations for it. In the hands of someone else, it might be the vehicle for glory. In my hands, well, I'll be happy if it gets published - ecstatic really! At my age, I may still dream of the Super Bowl, but I'd love to just make the team.

I used to think God was testing me and my patience. Just a little longer, He'd say, and glory will be yours. I'd wait. I'd throw myself into a new project - certain that this would be the one. And it'd all come crashing down around me. Fiancee - broke up. Naval School - graduated with the highest GPA in school history, still didn't get any honors. Intelligence posting - received a glowing review from my bosses, didn't receive a single medal for my hard work. Again, and again, and again, I'd put in the effort, I'd make the connections, I'd do everything in my power to succeed... and I'd end up with nothing to show for it. This, too, I figured was God's path. I guessed I was just not destined to win - like a guy playing the lottery every day and after every loss saying, "Tomorrow, for sure!"

I imagine I'd be a terrible winner. After all these years, hearing my name called would elicit one of two responses from me. I'd either burst into tears of happiness and be completely inconsolable, or I'd run onto the stage, grab my Oscar, and turn to the audience and say, "Well, its about freaking time! What took you people so long to realize my genius?! Are you morons? Geez... one lousy Oscar! I should have had forty by now..." My head would swell so large, I'd probably float out of the Dorothy Chandler Pavillion and have to get shot down by the Rocketeer.

But whenever I start thinking this way and start wondering why I am the world's biggest loser, or if I'll be the world's biggest headed winner, I just remember my Ecclesiastes and I become centered again.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter whether you all recognize my obvious superiority, or whether you learn to suffer my foolish inferiority. It doesn't matter if I'm rich and powerful, smart, handsome, and extremely talented, or if I'm a bum on the street corner asking you for a quarter. It doesn't matter if I succeed beyond my wildest imaginations, or spend my life a spectacular Never Was. My glory will come after I die and am rejoined with my Lord and Savior. That is the glory that is my destiny and that is the glory that God has been keeping for me. Next to it, even an Oscar is just a piece of metal.

Of course, a little glory down here wouldn't be too bad either. Which is why, if you can't beat 'em, you create 'em. Tomorrow, I will tell you all about the 2006 Taccie Awards.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oh, Man...we all have dreams...but over time they become less important while other things become more important. Funny, no where did I read that you count your blessings...that you thank god for great brain that he gave you so that you can create wonderful stories, movies, games....all the things your family and friends love about you.....There are many oscar winners who would give you all their oscars' to have what you have...Maybe,just maybe your time hasn't come because you are so concerned about what isn't instead of what is...and the greatness that comes with all of that. In my life I've had to change may times what I would dream as important but when I started Thanking God for all my blessings, I found a whole new set of dreams...no longer about material things,things that could be counted...but things that no one else can have or acheive..Yep, the answer lays in Counting your blessings.

Andy said...

Good post today, Will. There is only one award that matters...living forever with Him.

Peter Burch said...

well will, you beat yourself into a pulp and ended up at the pulpit. well done. i better get at least 40 taccies (whatever they are).

Unknown said...

Will - we ALL feel this way - except maybe those people who actually do get the awards and then they wonder why they didn't do it quicker or better or smarter or...

And besides, you DID win an award - lest you forget the youngest runner award you won at the Sri Chimnoy event? Why do you think I ran my first race? I wanted to beat you at being the youngest (hah - I thought they gave those out at every race!)

I know how frustrating this path is. Imagine how good I felt on the last day of crim litigation when we had our final trial. I was absolutely brilliant. The volunteer judge (a real judge sitting in to judge the mock trial) gave me a perfect score - the only one she said she had ever given out. I was glowing. I basked. It felt wonderful.

When I got an A, I was sure that I was going to get the crim lit AMJUR award - it is an award your professor applies for on your behalf for the person who gets the highest grade each semester.

Imagine my surprise when the AMJUR went to both of my trial partners, and not me.

But, then, I just thought, even if I didn't win the symbol, I still won the victory. I accomplished something for me. And no one can take that moment from me.