Words I Never Said (The Regrets Rant)

I feel that people can be divided into two categories when it comes to regrets: those who regret things they've done, and those who regret things they haven't done. There is a 3rd party, the regret equivalent of Tea Partiers, who claim to regret nothing, always because "it made me who I am". To them I have two things to say: 1) You're deluded if you expect anyone to believe you have a lifetime of countless decisions of which you wouldn't change a single one, and 2) who you are might not be all that remarkable that improvements couldn't have been made. I, personally, would change every decision to eat fast food and watch television into a strenuous workout instead. Past Me should suffer so Now/Future Me can reap the benefits of washboard abs. I would also not get the lines shaved into the side of my head, a la Vanilla Ice, back in 1990. My street cred can never fully recover from that. For some reason those decisions seemed much more reasonable at the time...

My point, if I actually have one, is that I securely fall into the latter of those two categories. I don't have a lifetime of terrible choices and sordid deeds to atone for. I have, of course, made some monumentally stupid decisions that make me shake my head sadly whenever I turn my spiteful gaze upon my college diploma. However, my regrets over things I didn't say or do far outweighs my deed regrets. I have not been driven in regards to the goals I wouls have liked to accomplish. I've heard it said that talent without ambition is nothing and that line always jabs me someplace...awkward. If you can write you feel you should be publishing Shakespeare. If you can draw you feel you should have something hanging in the Louvre. If you can sing you should be impressing Simon Cowell or Jennifer Lopez or whoever happens to be judging American Idol this week. How many of us think we could have achieved greatness if only we had tried harder, studied more, worked at it? I secretly suspect my 5'10 brother feels he would be a second string tight end for the St. Louis Rams...if only he had ever played football.

I have had a tumultuous lovelife (I need an understatement font) often with myself to blame and in large part because I often didn't push for what I really wanted. I feared being hurt, and even more hurting someone I care about, so much I may have missed out on opportunies, and inevitably hurt myself more in the long run. I'm not afraid of emotions, or feelings or committment or anything like that. I do worry about pushing anyone into anything and as a result I go halfway and stop, waiting for them to close the gap, almost like my pride is trying to keep my heart in line. Rationally, that might make sense. In reality it's about as effective as the Pirates farm system: potential prospects that eventually, and spectacularly, fall to the wayside. It's a longstanding irony of my life that doing nothing does far more harm in the future than whatever potential consequences were avoided at the time. I probably don't have to delve further into that for most of you.

So why am I writing this and even more importantly, why in the hell are you reading this? Well as to the latter I can only assume there's nothing good on TV and you enjoy discovering someone more dysfunctional than you. In short I am your 2011 blog version of Jerry Springer. But my reasons for writing this are simply because I am trying new things. I'm not talking about becoming an eccentric, exploring the outer limits of all things. I'm not going to send you obscure garage bands to listen to or where to buy the best organically grown cauliflower. I'm just talking about new things for me. Little to medium things, maybe larger in the great scheme of my life. This blog, cooking, bike riding, attending church more regularly, etc. I want to cut down on my regrets. I want to have fewer things I look back and regret not doing. I want to have fewer words I regret never saying. And in that vein I may take an occasional break from complaining about Dane Cook and Lil Wayne and threatening customers with bodily harm to quietly and privately tell some of you how much I think of you and how much I care. I can live with never being discussed amongst the great writers. I accept that I can't paint well enough for your refrigerator more or less the Louvre. And I will learn to cope with the fact that the Rams won't call Chris for that tryout. But I can't accept not telling the people I care about how important they are in my life. Some regrets are inexcusable. Laugh and love, everybody.