I originally posted this on MySpace one year ago today. I thought it would be interesting to go back and revisit, seeing where desire meets reality. I’ll post some thoughts on that tomorrow or Monday.
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When we’re little kids, we all have our heroes. I had several myself, from Superman to Michael Jackson (this was before he was weird…or, at least, before we knew about it). But, one of my favorites was Zorro. I used to watch The New Adventures of Zorro on the Family Channel every Friday night, and I loved watching The Sign of Zorro, the classic Disney film starring Guy Williams as Zorro.
At that age, I didn’t totally care that Zorro helped right wrongs. I mean, yeah…that was cool to help out people, and I always rooted for him when I watched the show. But, the thing I wanted to emulate the most was the sword fighting. To take a sword in my hand and go up to some rogue and make the trademark “z”…*svit svit svit*…that was a dream of mine.
I remember my dad buying me a plastic ninja-type sword one year at the Tennessee Valley Fair. Of course, I used it more for Zorro fun than ninja play. In fact, in my ever-increasing effort to achieve my dream of becoming the Masked Man, I scotch taped a black crayon to the end of it, and then taped a sheet of plain white paper to the back of my bedroom door. Whenever I felt like it, I would try my best to make that “z” mark without the crayon breaking off. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. But, I had fun, and I got one step closer to living out my dream.
Well, that was roughly…my gosh…16 years ago. Yet, here I am, still trying to make a mark. Though, it’s no longer Zorro’s mark; instead, it’s my own. Sometimes it gets made. For instance, when I first went to UT, something about my audition at the School of Music forced the School to take a closer look at their audition policy for my particular major (music composition). As a result, they saw that there was a need to clarify a few lines of the policy. So, I not only got in, but the situation helped pave the way for others in similar circumstances.
Sometimes, however, the crayon breaks. As many of you know, this has been the result for me more times than not, and for different reasons. But, each time, I’ve taped the crayon back on and tried again. And, as I stand on the brink of attending my fourth college as an undergraduate student, I think again about trying to make that mark. But, this time, I’m taking with me something I’ve never really had before, something that I can look to for drive and focus when they can’t be found anywhere else: a dream.
Up to this point, if you had asked me what I planned on doing with any of the four other degrees I’ve attempted to obtain, I would have said something vague like, “Oh, well…I could do this, or this, or that…and maybe even this over here. But, I’ll figure all that out when I get the degree.” Even early on, I never had a specific dream, with all the little specific things that I would want that dream to include. But, now I do. And it feels incredible.
As far as the dream itself, I won’t go into it here. I figure many of you will hear about it at some point. Indeed, I get very excited merely thinking about it and I love to talk to people about it. In fact, a few people have already given me some really great ideas to consider, either regarding things to study or things to do once I can put my dream into motion. And, I’m sure, it will probably surprise some of you. It is unlike anything I’ve ever really considered doing; yet, at the same time, it’s a combination of so many things I like to do. I can’t wait until it becomes reality.
See? I told you I get excited.
And, so, over the next few weeks, with this excitement boiling inside me, I’ll gather my things, make sure the apartment is ready to be vacated, and that I’m not leaving anything behind since I’m going to be so far from home. I’ll schedule lunch with people, and I’ll have my car checked to make sure it can make it “there and back again.” I’ll likely console my mom as she mourns my leaving. I’ll visit my grandmother in the nursing home. And, of course, I’ll order my books and send my room deposit, crossing my fingers that they’ll have a private room available.
And, once the lunches are had, the visits are made, the bills are paid, the car is loaded up…once I’m ready to close the door to my apartment for the last time, I’ll turn out the lights, grab my sword, and leave the scotch tape behind.
That crayon isn’t going to break off this time.
just jonathan 