05/06/16 part 2

Watching "Valley Uprising" on my laptop. Thanks Netflix. The wifi here isn't very good, so it's taken a good three hours to watch a 90 minute doc, but it gives me time to think.

Besides it being a really great documentary, there's such a strong idea of romanticism that I can't help but dwell on. I'm selfish, I think about me a lot. I'm not a climber, I never have been. I've never been to Yosemite and frankly, regardless of how good the doc is, I really don't have any desire to go. 

I think what draws me to it, what draws me to documentaries in the first place is the romanticized idea of any life or lifestyle that that goes in the face of the norms. When you live the counter-culture lifestyle and become an icon of sorts, you become legend.

Legends are romantic. They are dreamt about. People want to be them for all the glory, but not so much for their pain and failure. 

The rebels of Yosemite (in the doc) living a life outlined by Jack Kerouac, finding their own path in a world that wasn't what they wanted. Climbing, being free, no money, just them and what they loved.

I mentioned before that I liked being a cook. I have stories from that too, stories that criss-cross with major moments in my life. I read Anthony Bourdain's "Kitchen Confidential" and I knew the names like  Marco Pierre White, loved the picture of him staring at the camera, cigarette hanging from his lips as he stood out like a rockstar in the culinary world, giving back his Michelin stars. 

I lived a life were I was surrounded by literal rockstars who spanned three generations, four if you include that one run-in with Charlie Watts and how you define the length of a generation. 

You get lost in the romance of it all. The highlights. The single frames of images that become your idea of the world. 

I don't think there will ever be a "rockstar podcaster", someone who really pushes the boundaries and lives a life saying "you can't tell me how to podcast, man" (or is that what they are all doing in the first place?), but I can tell you one thing, as someone who is living inside of something where I am only showing the "highlights", the stuff in between isn't romantic.

It's boring. And quiet. And painful. There is nothing romantic about sitting alone in this room right now typing these thoughts and wondering what tomorrow will bring. Is there adventure in it? Sure. 

But it's also lonely as hell. 

Legends happen in between everything else.