I often like to say that I try to live my life with as few regrets as possible, and I often boasted about how few regrets I had in my life.
I think I’ve been fooling myself for as long as I’ve been saying that, because when I really think about it, I know that I’ve got a lot of regrets out there, and me claiming that I don’t have them really isn’t doing me any favors.
The video above was something I saw at trivia earlier in the week, and it’s been stuck in my head since. Admittedly, I kind of think Call Me Maybe is kind of catchy and I think Carly Rae Jepsen is cute as hell even if she’s probably like ten years younger than me, but I have to say that I loved this vintage cover video of Call Me Maybe. I’m not sure why it is, but I’m a big fan of 1920s vintage era stuff to begin with, so this was completely up my alley.
As for the video itself it wins on so many levels for me. I love the idea and I love the execution; the vocalist is beautiful in that vintage way, and now that I’ve learned what they’re called I can say that I pretty much dig any girl that can rock victory rolls. Seriously, if any girl wants to impress me, speaking to me victory rolls is a good way to start. But I also love just watching the gents on the piano, bass and drums. Especially the guy on piano; I’m absolutely mesmerized by how deftly he plays, and it’s like listening to a player piano at work, but it’s an actual person instead.
That’s when it occurred to me that hey, I used to play the piano, growing up. But it was also my whiny choices when I stopped. Maybe if I had been able to break through that wall of pre-adolescence, and actually applied myself to the piano, I could have been as good as this guy. But nope, I saw the piano as a chore, and something that I was forced into doing by my mom. I hated the lessons, and I never wanted to practice at home. I had no appreciation for the piano, and I would rather waste my time playing Double Dragon III or trying to beat fucking Battletoads.
I regret giving up on the piano.
Man, what I wouldn’t do to have some legitimate musical talent today. I’ve given up on the piano, given up on the trumpet, and I have a guitar that I don’t know how to play. I think I’m genuinely envious of anyone who has talent with any instrument today, and I’m now currently contemplating on how to make like guitar lessons work in the future.
But the point remains, I do feel regret. And it’s not just piano I feel regret over, either. It’s kind of depressing to say it, but I do kind of feel like I wasted my childhood with my choices and my propensity to give up on things. I can try to blame my mom for making it feel like I was being forced to do things, but the truth is, I’m still the one that badgered her into quitting, using the guise of financial savings over the chance to actually gain some actual talents.
A few years ago, an old friend came through town for a martial arts expose. While classmates in high school, I had no idea he was such a practitioner of Tae Kwon Do. He runs in own school down in Kissimmee these days, but back when he was in Atlanta, he was at this expose with all of his students. I got my black belt in the 7th grade, but it was shortly afterward that I stopped practicing Tae Kwon Do myself. I watched my friend coach his students who were all ranging anywhere from junior to high schoolers. They were all black belts, and they were doing forms that blew my mind away. And then forms with weapons. Weapons. And not like a wooden dowel that’s supposed to be a makeshift bo staff, but like actual, bladed weapons like kamas and katanas.
Once I saw one of the kids I saw at the expose in Atlanta on ESPN. Fucking national television, doing the same intensely acrobatic forms, with weapons.
I regret not applying myself to martial arts when I had the chance to, looking back. If only I broke through the wall of thinking Tae Kwon Do class was the tedious thing I had to do that ate into my Street Fighter II time, not only could I have perhaps developed into someone who could do Street Fighter moves (with the exception of fireballs……….maybe), but maybe I might’ve been good enough to be on ESPN.
But I gave up on that too. And I regret it, looking back.
This isn’t so much depressing as much as it is acceptance that I think I wasted my childhood, and coming to terms that I do have plenty of things to have regrets over. And that it’s pretty silly for me to say that I want to live with no regrets, because I sure as shit have plenty.
And a boatload of smaller ones, magnitude varying. I regret lots of decisions I’ve made in my life when I kind of look back to certain events. Things I’ve said to people, actions I did or didn’t do. The girls I never made a move on because I’m a wuss with no game, when I really should have. The places I didn’t go to, because my priorities were flawed, like on video games, or something superficial and inconsequential. Or even on the topic I touched on the other day, I gave up on drawing; perhaps I could be a vastly stronger and better-rounded artist if I didn’t.
So, in conclusion, to probably nobody’s surprise, but I’m full of it when, and if I ever say again, that I don’t have any regrets.
Because I most certainly do have plenty.
