Like a lot of men my age, I’ve always liked Pink Floyd. I like the psychedelic tone, the bizarre lyrics sometimes revealing deep meaning or tortured insights into the human condition, as well as the melodious, varied textures of the music. Most of the music’s appeal comes from late addition and now lead man David Gilmour. But the tortured, deep lyrics (as well as a lot of the nonsensical ones) came from Syd Barrett. And Syd Barrett died recently. This got me thinking some morbid thoughts, motivated in part by having a funeral to attend tomorrow.
Syd Barrett was the epitome of the artist tortured by unseen demons who did not have to be there. Pink Floyd at its peak was a popular, profitable, and critically-acclaimed band. After its first few big hits, it was clearly destined for its place in the pantheon of pop music — maybe not as big as the Beatles or the Rolling Stones, but on the same scale as its contemporaries the Who or Led Zeppelin. Yet Barrett simply could not handle all the success. He withdrew from the limelight, eschewed the rock-n-roll lifestyle, did lots of drugs, and engaged in a wide variety of bizarre, self-indulgent behavior like shaving off his eyebrows. (This, in turn, inspired one of the more visually arresting images from Pink Floyd’s The Wall.)
One of the attorneys at the firm mentioned this problem a few days ago: “How much success can you handle? When you have too much, you’ll start destroying yourself so you don’t have it anymore.” The Wife also mentioned recently that a lot of people don’t want to have money and success, and that they do things to prevent themselves from having that kind of life. Syd Barrett was obviously like that. I don’t know if that’s a Freudian way of looking at the human psyche or a Jungian one — but it is a school of thought so pervasive as to constitute the conventional wisdom.
This got me thinking about myself — I’ve tried to have success in my life, but I don’t seem to have it yet. In the context of my own career, I’m no Syd Barrett, but then again, I haven’t exactly become David Gilmour, either. I’ve not done badly, but I’ve had some big stumbles, too. I don’t begrudge any of my peers their success, but it feels like a lot of success has passed me by. I could have bought real estate a long time ago and rode the bubble up to present-day market values; that opportunity has passed me by because I made different choices. Many of my professional ventures didn’t work out as well as I would have liked, like starting my own firm and relocating to a more affordable part of the country.
Don’t get me wrong, Loyal Readers. I’ve much to be grateful for and I know it. Like I said, I’m not a Syd Barrett, turning into a recluse in the face of plenty. But if it’s true that people create their own realities, if it’s true that we all eventually become what we want to be, then am I now what it is that I unconsciously wish to be? That is an uncomfortable thought and it feels sort of defeatist. Why haven’t my previous paths led me to the places I consciously wanted to go? What will happen with the new path I’m on now? I want to do more than tread water the rest of my professional life. At least, I think that’s what I want.
The cruel twist on the Protestant work ethic that “some people just don’t want success so they sabotage themselves” is so pervasive in contemporary thought that people react emotionally when that notion is questioned. I wonder, though. Maybe people think this about the world because the idea that success and failure is really just random, or powered by forces so large and chaotic that they may as well be random, is too unacceptably terrifying to contemplate seriously. Maybe Syd Barrett came to the conclusion that it really was all chance and chaos instead of choice and creation, and rather than risk a catastrophic fall through the vicissitudes of random happenstance, he chose to opt out and at least keep some measure of self-control over his own fate.
We’ll never know now, other than what clues we can glean from the oft-confusing lyrics to the music he wrote in the sixties and seventies. I’m not a believer in the afterlife and I don’t think if there was one, Syd Barrett would be in a happier place. Rather, I think we can ask ourselves whether he wound up the way he did because of chance or choice. The question has real implications, most of them unpleasant.
If you are successful because of choices you have made, then how do you know if you’re going to reach a point where, like Syd Barrett, you suffer from an irresistible impulse to destroy everything you’ve created? If you are unsuccessful because of choices you have made, particularly at an unconscious level, what can you possibly do to change those choices in the future? And if your success or lack thereof is the result of factors beyond your control which are effectively random, what can you really do to change, control, or even guide your fate?
What’s important here is to come up with the honest answer, and not the one that simply feels good.
(Nelson Munz laugh) Ha, ha! You’re probing the dark recesses of your soul and questioning your *entire life* ’cause some old mentally ill *Pink Floyd* guy died of Type II diabetes complications! This is rich. What teenager in the 80s listened to Pink Floyd? Two types — stoner burnouts … and guys who lived in the sticks where KROQ didn’t reach. So you and Salsola had to “rock out” to KLOS, ten years after it was cool. You thought that dinosaur rock was *profound,* and it carries a residual emotional impact to this day. Man, I am never letting you live this one down. Salsola will get his share due to vicarious dorkability.
Kidding aside, you know my stance on the “you-create-your-own-reality” theory. I respectfully but vehemently disagree that it applies either to Syd Barrett or to you.As for Syd, evidence indicates he was mentally ill. Happens to all sorts of people — probably *more* to failures than the even temporary successes. Can’t blame a guy for having schizophrenia. The drugs probably made things worse. I don’t think psychedelic drugs were a sign of self-destructive behavior for a rock musician in the 70s. It seems they were virtually a required part of the culture. Freaky behavior entertained fans; it was the fact that his freakiness interfered with *doing his work* that probably led to his downfall. Same thing with Sid Vicious and Brian Jones. Their bands’ mystique profited from their excessive behavior, but this behavior has penalties. I don’t think that’s a desire to fail, it’s just hard for many people to keep controlled and competent while required to do excessive, bizarre things. People with risk-averse, sensible, practical personalities would probably not make it in rock.Plus, let’s be practical: Most entertainment careers don’t last long. That’s a reflection on the market, not just the performers. Even successful entertainers usually do not make enough money to live on for the rest of their lives. I suspect that a lot of former stars blame their downfalls on drugs or other bad behavior simply to save their pride. It’s easier than admitting that the market simply got tired of them. It’s more dramatic, and gets them sympathy/admiration as a “saved” person when they tell a recovery story. Plus, bands have interpersonal fallouts just like any business, and some people just lose out. Lots of times, when people see failure coming, they react badly to it. But it’s the effect, not the cause.As for you, I can’t think of a single decision you made that I would even characterize as bad, much less self-defeating, given your options and your knowledge at the time you made them. You don’t control the economy. You don’t control the legal market. It is not controversial to say that both have been shorting many, many talented and diligent people over the past decade or two.For instance, do you think made a mistake leaving the Fishhead firm? It’s half the size that it was two years ago when I worked there — simply due to individual firings and leavings. You left what, 9 years ago? Look at the partner roster and see who’s there from your time, or since. Maybe 2 or 3 guys, and those are pseudo-partners. I think you had much better chances, and much better QOL, running your own firm.Then again, maybe I’m just bitter because I subconsciously sabotaged myself by not sleeping with the Fishhead. (Enjoying that image?) However, a big reason behind the drive to succeed is the desire to avoid sex with the gross. As for the real estate market — well, I suppose you could theoretically have moved way, waay far away from work and stretched to buy a house in the hinterlands. But, you were single at the time. The affordable areas do not attract professional, single young people. The only person I know who bought real estate *without outside support* was Salsola, and he worked in one of those areas. And, look at some of the nutty skanks he had to hook up with. 😉
I think you are being way too hard on yourself.People engage in self destructive behavior for a variety of reasons. That includes a small subset that fear success.However, it is much more common to not get what you want for causes beyond your control or just plain bad luck. That does not mean that most people end up where they subconsciously want to end up.Your path may have been a bit windier than you planned, but the end is good.