I had kind of an interesting morning this AM. It was kind of interesting in the sense that, a few things really pushed me to a, “Times Gone Past,” frame of mind. They all made me remember things of the long ago and the far, far away.
 
Normally, I'm not one of those people who dwells in the past. I don't think about the what-once-was. I don't think about the what-could-have-been. I don't think about the long list of maybes… I'm really always pretty much right here in the right now. But, I think for each of us, every now and then, there's something that drives our thinking mind into the past.
 
As stated, there was a couple of instances that occurred. I guess the first of which was, I was at this stoplight and this vintage Bianchi Road Bike jammed though the intersection, right in front of me, straight through the red light. Okay… To each their own. Maybe the dude wants to die or something? I don't know?
 
The reason that situation struck me as interesting/strange was, I once owned a Bianchi just like the bike that guy was riding. In fact, that was my first really good what commonly/colloquially became known as, Italian Racing Bikes. It was painted with that really beautiful Bianchi Green. It had Campagnolo Super Record components on it. And, it was just a joy to ride.
 
I hadn't seen one of those in a long, long time. People who ride high-end bikes now have really moved on. It's a new/different era. But, it did strike up a point in my mind of the way back in the way back when.
 
It was the mid 1980s. I was bike riding all the time. I used to do thirty plus miles on The Strand pretty much every night of the week. I'd hop on my bike at about 11:00 PM—because there was nobody on The Strand at that point in time. I'd ride from my place right on the beach in Redondo, all the way down to the Marina, and then back. Pedaling a thousand miles an hour. At least it felt like.
 
That was a good time in my life. I still had all that hopes of youth. And, all the beliefs that everything was going to work out and be really, really grand.
 
Good to see that bike again. Wish I could have kept mine.
 
The second situation that occurred was when I went into Starbucks to grab my morning latte and everything bagel. Nothing really extravagant was happening in there. Just pre-ordered via the app, went in, waited a couple minutes because it still wasn't ready, they called out my name, and I walked out the door. As I did, I walked out through the back patio, which overlooks the Pacific Ocean. As I exited, there was a little kid there just throwing a fit. The kid was on the ground beating and screaming and crying. And, instead of doing anything about it, the parents looked at each other and I heard them say, “Do you think people are going to think we're bad parents because he’s so upset?”
 
Wow. This made me smile. It made me re-realize how different parenting has become, compared to say when I was a young boy. If I ever cried, my father would look at me and say, “If you don't stop crying, I'm going to give you something to cry about.” And, if I didn't stop crying, he actually did give me something to cry about.
 
It was a totally different era. I guess you could call it a, “Very abusive,” point in time. The parents of that era would probably be arrested in the world of today. It was brutal! But, it made people of my generation, for lack of a better term, hard. You knew how you had to encounter life. And, if you didn't, you knew what was going to happen next.
 
I really worry about the children of today. I watched as the people that grew up in my generation and after, family members and otherwise, either turned into their parents and became really abusive or they go the complete opposite direction. They never raise a hand. They never say a harsh word. And, they just let the children exist in whatever emotions they were feeling, even if those emotions were expressed by throwing a fit on the patio of Starbucks.
 
Which is better? I don't know? But, the children of this generation are growing up with no discipline. I truly don't know what that's going to equal?
 
The next thing happened when I was watching this one girl who comes into my feed. She's a very positive person, trying to spread goodness through her content. I would say, she’s very pretty but she dumbs herself down very intentionally. Plus, she often speaks about how she's not going to let the depression that she feels over take her. She's going to go out, enjoy the sunshine, drink a beer, have a smoke… She smokes. I'm not into that. But, for her, I guess, it's her method to happiness. So, how hard can you hate on that?
 
The thing that struck me as interesting, is that how people of the today are so willing to discuss the fact that they suffer from depression. When I came up, you didn't even know what it was called. You just fought your way through it. And, you certainly never told anybody else about how you were feeling.
 
I mean, for example, myself, I'm told I've suffered from what is now deemed High Functioning Depression my entire life. Combine that with Chronic Anxiety Syndrome, and a few other scripted and/or nondescript psychological components that I suffer from, and you have an interesting stew of dysfunctionality. Nonetheless, throughout my life I forced myself to DO every day. I've never allowed myself to be controlled by it. Or, even discuss it.
 
My lady and I were discussing this last week. I remember back on one occasion, where I actually received two book deals in one day. I think for the average person, they would pretty much be overtaken with joy and happiness over that situation. For me, it just kind of felt like this weird sense of nothing. I remember I had to go out and have lunch with these two guys that afternoon. We were discussing doing a film together. I'd worked with one of the men previously. What we previously created, I consider to be a couple of really good pieces of cinema. The other guy, I hadn't worked with yet. As it turned out, I kind of wish I wouldn't have, as he turned out to be not that nice of an individual. No hate on my part. But, he did do a few things that were pretty fucked up. What can you expect? This is Hollywood.
 
Anyway, I remember that guy handed me a script while we were having lunch that day. I handed the script to my friend. I told the guy who gave it to me, “I don't read scripts.” He looked kind of dumbfounded, wondering why. I explained, “When I do read them, all I see is what's missing.” I looked at him, and I said, “You probably wouldn’t want me to tell you what I really think about this script if I actually read it.” That was the end of that.
 
The reason I tell this story, is that as mentioned, this was on the same day that, earlier, I had just been offered two book deals. Thus, I was getting all these publishing deals, I was writing all these articles for magazines, I was doing some modeling on the side, and, I was making movies back-to-back. You'd think I'd be feeling the utmost, radiant sense of joy. But, I felt nothing. Nothing great or grand or happy-making or anything like that. Just the sense of tasks to complete. Anyway… Just the condition my condition was is.
 
What I'm saying here is, we each live our own reality as best as we can live our reality. There's moments in our life that really are close to the surface. The moment we are reminded of certain things, they immediately pop up. Like I said earlier, for me the Bianchi bicycle was one of them. Another was the way I was treated by my parents verse the way I witnessed the young tantrum throwing child. For you, I am sure you have your own list.
 
All of this creates who and what we are and who and what we become. Add into this the psychological factors that were either created for us in our youth or were simply born into us. What can we do about them? Yes, we can try to work with them as best we can. Some people medicate themselves throughout their lives. But, that's just not who I am. Others, like myself, just pass through this existence, trying to be as whole and as conscious as they/we can be, and to not let psychological hindrances drag us/them down.
 
So, what memories quickly pop into your mind from a time gone past? Are they happy memories? Are they sad memories? And, how do those memories make you who you are today? How did they influence you to become who you have become?
 
Do you speak about them when you create content? If you do speak about them with others, how do they make you feel? Is that somehow your method of coping? Is that somehow your method of making you a better person, while you're helping others who suffer from the same conditions to hopefully have a better day, leading to a better life?
 
We each dance through life as best as we can. I believe that most of us want things to be better than they actually are. Though we may strive for this, we're only as good as we can become, based upon who we already were. …Based upon who we were created to be. So again, who are you, what are you, what are you doing today to make this day a better day—a more productive day? Not just for yourself but for those people that you know and love and those people that you do not even know? Mostly, how did your yesterday lead you to where you are today? And, what are you going to do about it?