Author: Matthew Groff

My wife had a function at her work last night, which I attended. What she didn’t tell me was that she had also invited some our friends as well. I had a bit of a surprise when I got there and saw people I knew and hadn’t seen in a while.

As I talked to one of my friends, who is a creative in the theatrical world, we started discussing about how many people in theatre leadership positions (Directors, writers, composers, producers, act…) are just plain shitty to everyone. I’m talking assholes, unrepentant. Now, I’m not confusing demanding your best types, as those people at the end of the day make you feel better about yourself. I’m talking the full blown, shit in your Wheaties, assholes. And there are so many of them in the theatrical world.

As we told our war stories to each other, this thought came to the top of my head, and I blurted it out, “And all of these assholes are the most miserable people I have ever met.”

And we laughed…

And then I thought more about it… And it sort of is true. The greater the artist, the more that hate themselves and everyone around them.

I love Kerouac’s writing, and spent a good amount of time researching him, and that was my conclusion I came to after reading several books about his life. He was pretty awful to everyone, and the only way he could cope with life was to writer about, in essence, how much better it should be.

This is my second day back at work after having been away on a week of vacation. It sucks, and I would rather be back where we were staying.

On the last day before our return to NYC, the “Sunday Night Blues” set in. That dread of having to go to school and the fun is over. We got it twice, as we came back to the city on Friday, and then didn’t return to school and work until Monday. So, on Sunday, we had the blues all over again.

That dread of having to return to something that you don’t like is a part of life that I wish I could shake. The only time I remember not having it was when I dropped out of college and was working some pretty awful dead end jobs to make ends meet. In that period of life, I worked weekends, so there was no dread of Monday. Most of the time I had Monday and Tuesday off. Depending on the job, I would even have a third day off during the week as well. My memory was that it was a Thursday.

Now that I am thinking about this, that was the fun thing about awful dead end jobs; your weekend was during the week. The lines were always short and retail people were pretty happy to see you.

Other than that, living in poverty is awful.

To conclude; I would prefer not to work. If I have to work, I prefer dead end, but I disliked poverty. Hence, I have to go to work on Monday.

Living in the New York was always a dream of mine, and I have wanted it for so long, I don’t remember a time when I didn’t want it. I know for sure that I wanted it when I was in the 11^th grade, and I feel it was something tart I wanted when I started theatre in the 9^th grade which puts me about 14. But, I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t a goal. It was so much a goal that I have kept a New York quarter with me, in my pocket since 2001, when the Fed started issuing those quarters, as a daily reminder where I was going.

I believe in the power of a goal, because I am here now, and I seem to have etched out a life and family in this place. I might not be top of the heap, but I am in the heap.

And having a goal was something that my Grandma always kidded us about. “You gotta have goals. If not, then you have nothing to look forward to.” Rather sage grandmother wisdom. This phrase, and I can hear it coming out with that Midwestern accent of hers, has stuck with me. Usually, when things get down and I wonder what it is I am doing in life, her phrase will come back to me.

Get a goal, any goal, and work towards something. No matter what, the feeling of accomplishing something, even a little thing, is better than the feeling of having wasted a day.

Superhero movies used to be fun for me, and had an element of “Wow, they found a way to film the impossible…” but being that everything is a superhero movie… it has lost its magic as far as I’m concerned. They aren’t special, but now the expected norm.

And it feels like I am being force fed this steady film diet of blow up more stuff and violet conflict is the only answer.

Is this the American philosophy post 9/11?

That we can’t take care of ourselves and that someone or something with super powers, god like beings, are the only thing out there that can save us? There is something that doesn’t sit right with me as an American watching these movies. That what seems to make someone a great American is that we are all normal people from all over this world who band together to confront problems and solve them.

At least that’s my thought…

It reminds me of the use of the Western in movies. I feel almost all Westerns are about bring order to the world, either moral authority or physical dominance. The west was tamed, or the good guy wins, or what makes someone the good guy. It was the metaphor for a burgeoning nation that lacked a moral mythical foundation story, that has to exist after the Civil War, as that was the war that “solved” the original sin of the foundation of the country. And all of these stories are about normal people.

The Western came out of fashion by the 70’s and think was replaced by the super hero, but super heroes didn’t truly catch on till after 9/11.

What does that say about us?

There was a school shooting today…

Ten people have been killed as of writing this…

It has happened again in America…

And this only happens in America…

Over and over again…

I truly fear that we will soon become a society where everyone will know someone who has been affected by gun violence…

We are becoming desensitized to gun violence…

Not by movies, or tv, or video games, but because real people, humans we know in our daily lives, are being killed in our schools, streets, offices, and homes…

All using guns…