A Single Southern Guy In America

« On Dreams and Hope | Main | Insta-Bias » March 24, 2004 THE LOVERS, THE DREAMERS, AND ME Key has spoken...via email. Good friends and kindred souls often offer glimpses into their inner souls with one another and those glimpses are always understood with an implicit understanding of a bond of trust that cannot be broken. This is the way with any friendship. This afternoon I walked the streets of the downtown business district of a small town where Key has ancestral roots. When we first met (before she became a blogger), this was one of our first discussions--the people of and the place called Paragould. For me it was an unplanned trip, but for the way things just happen to align it was fitting. I gave Key a call. She had begun to frame her response and much of what you will read on and see discussed, we chatted on it a bit before the demands of an obnoxiously loud and annoying ring of a telephone on her end (those who have talked to her during the day know what I mean). She proposed the idea of penning her position and asked if I would post it here. I agreed. She went back to her real world and then graciously took time to answer my positions from the earlier essay. I wandered around and visited with a couple of shopkeepers, tending to their stores on a seemingly empty road that one time would have been packed tighter than a vacuum sealed block of black coffee. More on my wanderings of today later, though, they accent what was written yesterday. All of this introduction is to offer one explanation and apology. Key's response is posted below with the deletion of one sentence. I cannot include it and feel comfortable that I have kept her confidence. Key, if you wish me to include it later, I will be more than happy to update this entry and insert it. With no further adieu, SSG presents Key Monroe: The Lovers, The Dreamers, And Me la-la-laa-da-da-da sung by Kermit, interpreted by Key A lot of bloggers are lovers and dreamers. That is because these qualities are prerequisite for passionate writing. I could name several on my blogroll and list examples, but I won't. Adam surprised me with his post yesterday. I meant it when I said, "wow." I'm a dreamer. Many have called me so (recently) and meant it to be an insult. But I am a prisoner of my dreams. Adam will call that "sad." I call it the definition of being a "hopeless romantic." Possessing depth is rewarding at times, crippling at times. Some avoid the deeper waters. They don't know the pleasure, but neither do they know the danger and pain. To us they are alternatively boring and blissfully ignorant. We either pity them or envy them. Dreamers can't have it all. Sometimes our dreams conflict. My path is chosen. Many feel my pain. If they didn't, we wouldn't have the term "hopeless romantic," and we wouldn't have romantic tragedies. When dreams conflict, one must sacrifice one to follow the other. We cannot have both. For a dreamer who wants it all, the situation is hopeless. I don't want to sacrifice the dream that I'm living, but that doesn't stop the flood of dreams that wish me in another direction on a daily basis. Adam, perhaps I labeled you prematurely. Perhaps I was projecting. You're not there yet. You are a romantic. It's one of those deals where all hopeless romantics are dreamers and all romantics are dreamers, but not all romantics are hopeless romantics. (Although all hopeless romantics are romantics as hopeless is merely a modifier, as Jack pointed out.) The burning passion within me continues to live and will be manifested many ways. Many catch a glimpse every now and then. And hopefully someday I'll learn to channel it, and it will become a novel that I can build my retirement on. Such is one life. Adam, I'm sure you'll keep chasing it. I'd be disappointed if you didn't. I'll continue to give you hell, but only because a part of me is insanely envious, of course in the comment, you saw the part of me that pities your plight. So what does that make me, by my own definition? A hopeless romantic. The hades of dreamworld. It's an affliction I've grown to depend upon. I know it, and it knows me. But I don't consider myself a pessimist. This is but one part of me. I dream. I unrealistically dream. If I believed everything that I dreamed, I would be delusional. So, I consider myself a realist. And, yes I DO have optimistic tendencies. (I like that, by the way.) The post was beautiful Adam. Again, I say "wow." If that post doesn't get you the girl, the girl isn't worth getting. Thanks for the dance. Ed. Note: A deep thanks to Key for her response. My reply will be forthcoming. Posted by Adam H at March 24, 2004 11:24 PM ~ Link Cosmos | Trackbacks (0) Comments Post a comment Name: Email Address: URL: Remember personal info? YesNo Comments:

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Welcome to my humble little corner of the blogosphere! Not too many rules here--love your neighbor, go easy on the brews, and don't shoot the jukebox. Make yourself at home and remember Momma don't like for you to put your feet on the kitchen table.

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