I'm in Los Angeles working on some music for my next record. I saw the movie, The Wrestler, a few nights ago and I can't stop thinking about it.
THE SILENCE OF THE RAM
Approached with a sense of purpose and love, any occupation could save a person from ruin. It's not what you do, but how you do it. You could be an excellent mom, goat herder or pro-wrestler. It's how you choose to pour yourself into your own life (whatever it may be) that has redemptive powers.
To pursue an authentic life, to endure, and resist capitulating to whatever is your version of the deli counter of mediocrity (where Randy the Ram reluctantly worked), that is to triumph. The Ram keeps charging in spite of all his obstacles, failings and flaws. He can't win back his daughter, he is alone and getting old. The girl he digs can't save him from a heart attack. He chooses to go out swinging: When he gets up on the ropes that one last time, before he has the final heart attack (as I see it) and the film goes to black, Randy the Ram falls and triumphs simultaneously. He sacrifices himself on the altar of the ring in one final flip to mediocrity. The Ram is a genuine hero in that moment to me, not a super hero with a cape, but a flawed mortal in lime green lycra tights, flying in the face of death and defeat. He chose to do what he loved.
The Bike: It's Not About the Bike
