In Retrospect: What Would You Tell Yourself At 16?
For the New Year:
If you could go back to when you were 16, what would you tell yourself -- knowing what you know now?
Customarily, the new year is filled with anticipated resolutions that are nominally broken within the first month.
Given that, I'm suggesting we change things up a bit:
If you could go back to when you were 16, what would you tell yourself -- knowing what you know now?
You may either answer here or -- preferably -- take a larger amount of time to answer in full on your own site.
If you do this, please provide a link to your own site because, if nothing else, I'm all about promoting other sites.
Let me start and set the tempo, if I may:
Welcome to your Youth. You don't have a clue as to what value your youth means. That's fine. Just shake with me and, if nothing else, print this blogpost out and do what it says when it says.
First and foremost, you were stronger and sharper and more intelligent than you could ever have imagined. Go with your gut. You seldom trust it.
When you pissed off Norm Bradfield playing flag football on Fairmont East's field, that's called a clue. You were efficient, strong and effective. You beat him, fair and square. He hated it because he was taller and was from Ohio. You were the interloper.
So when he and Matt Carpenter braced you on your own home turf near Chatham Village, on the railroad tracks when your friend Rick Back was visiting, you should have pulled your folding knife and held it to their necks. You needed to realize early -- and didn't realize until much later -- that Evil and Strength only respect Strength in return. An excellent lesson. Yet you didn't learn from it. Don't back down. You didn't trust your strength. This will become a much larger lesson to be later learned.
I would also say: for those numerous years you worked as a kid throwing newspapers, as a teenager working for your townehomes shoveling snow, mowing lawns, building fences, painting, replacing filters, as a higher teenager: save every damned dime you make.
Conserve. Scrimp. Save. With houses costing a pittance of what you'll later pay for one in the 80s, coupled with low interest rates, you could own your own home by the time you're 21. From there, you can buy and sell houses all the way up to your actual dream house. There will be lots of money to be made in 70s and 80s real estate.
Beware of drugs. You'll be offered cocaine, heroin and psychedelics by Jerry. You avoided him. Continue to do that. You were smarter than him and that led to his later death in his 20s.
Embrace Karl Kimball. He was the Real Deal at Wright State. Continue on that path with King Crimson and your musical expansion. Learn from him. You won't be sorry.
Accept your position in radio and let loose; have fun. Recognize that you have a gift with regard to radio and music -- either having supported music or played the artists you loved, or toured with them or flown with them -- as witness Status Quo on the Live Album in Glasgow, Scotland, or AC/DC with Bon Scott.
You had a great idea, once; it was this:
Take a photograph on your birthday, for every year. At the age of 60 you'll have a collage that no one else on the planet will have.
Take a few hints:
Buy stock in Microsoft whenever you first see that name.
Buy stock in Google whenever you first see that name.
Buy stock in Apple whenever you first see that name.
Buy stock in Yahoo whenever you first see that name.
Find the winning California Super Lotto number on March 18th of of 2007.
Listen to your inner recommendations.
And when it comes down to the vehicle stop in the 70s south of Watsonville on the border with Monterey County: empty your .357 stainless Smith revolver into the motherfucker. Then reload. Don't stop at four.
He will die and you will live. Be glad. Rejoice. The guilt will pass.
That will be a major pivotal point in your life.
BZ
























