2006-10-22 7:56 p.m.
Rock Star Brother
I hadn't realized how much I missed either of them until I heard their voices. Granted, I almost always miss my gran since she lives so far away, but my brother and I - while not exactly "close" - have always had a very friendly relationship built on a tacit understanding that neither of us wants the other in our personal business.
Gran sounded good...she had lots to say about my choice of University. My Uncle went here for a while way back when it was still known as "Touchy Feely U" according to my dad. She seems to think it would be wonderful for me if I could stay here as my permanent residence once college finishes out for me and I'm unceremonially tossed on my ass into the work world. I'm inclined to agree - I love Santa Cruz. Even if it is infested with vampires.
The brother is happy, or so it seemed. He doesn't like living in a bat cave, but that's why he's never home. I didn't like it either, that's why in my dorm room the windows and blinds are always thrown wide open and to hell with privacy. With such illustrious traditions as the Porter "First Rain Naked" Run, shame and modesty have very little place here.
But that's as it should be. It wouldn't be a university campus if there weren't a moderate amount of shamelessness, hedonism, and decadence, liberally mixed with ramen noodles, pizza for breakfast, drunken revels, boring lectures, and a notable lack of true intellectual stimulation. Santa Cruz just wins in that it has what has to be the most beautiful campus and the most adorable college town in the country.
The brother was telling me that his band has already played a show in the Key Club on Sunset Boulevard, among others. They're playing the Whiskey A-Go-Go sometime in the very near future, too. Quite the big deal. Most Los Angeles bands only wish they could play those venues. I'm proud of him. I know he works hard at his music, and he has to be one of the most naturally talented musicians I've met.
Every time we talk he asks me when I'm going to learn to play guitar. When I reply that I'm probably not, he always responds with, "You mean you don't want to be a rock star?"
No. Not particularly. I personally like being one of a million, rather than one in a million. Oblivion is a perfectly happy place for me. I don't know what to do with recognition.
For my brother, things aren't so simple. He's good. He knows he's good, but he doesn't know HOW good. Sure, there are the usual jokes of "I am awesome, that is all" that come with every teenage boy on the planet, but he's always working to get better because he appreciates what is probably the bitchiest fact in all of life: it doesn't matter how good you are, someone will always be better. He still wants recognition for the talent he does have.
I support him entirely. He deserves the recognition and appreciation.
I know of many other people who deserve it, who either don't have it or don't get enough of it. I may not know them personally, but I know of them, and that's enough.
The fact that I don't want fame or recognition for myself AS myself baffles my brother. He doesn't understand that I would rather keep my privacy and live my life under the radar as I see fit, while "working behind the scenes" as it were to try and make the world a better place.
Just a fundamental difference in personality types, I guess.
School conversations often turn to celebrities. And why not? They certainly provide all of our entertainment that is shared by more than a small handful of people in a localized area. In elementary school and junior high, frequently our conversations turned to which celebrity was "ours". It never occurred to anyone that you can't lay claim to something you've never personally interacted with, let alone a living, breathing human being under any circumstances.
Even now, you'll see and hear similar things. Especially when you hear of groupies who go after famous people just for an evening. How degrading.
To me, I suppose the issue isn't helped by the fact that my little brother is pursuing this objectification with everything he has in him.
I wonder sometimes if he honestly thinks it will be all kicks and giggles and revels and fun. I wonder if he doesn't realize that leeches are something very real to be watched for, that the politics of entertainment might force him to compromise in order to realize his dreams, that if he makes it he will never again have any privacy unless he is VERY careful. And if there's one thing my brother is, careful is not it. He's a very trusting kid. It's endearing, but it's also stupid when you want the career he does.
He jokes around about who he'll introduce me to once he's famous, who he'll send me to hang out with. I still haven't told him that those dreams are only dreams: I won't hang out with anyone who has been touched by fame, except for him. I don't like what it does to the famous individual and/or the people said individual interacts with. It either disgusts me or depresses me...or both.
Maybe I'm being harsh. I'm sure there are wonderful famous people who surround themselves with people who are also exceptions to the leech/groupie rule.
What it really comes down to, I guess, is that I'm willing to put myself out there through anonymous media like this journal, but I wouldn't want to become known because of an association with a person. I don't want to be known at all, really. I just want to make a blip in the collective consciousness that will eventually make a positive change, but other than that, I want to be allowed to live in whatever form of anonymity I select.
For that, I'm perfectly willing to give up the chance to rub elbows with the rich and famous.
