Expectations

In the annals of music there are some pretty horrible songs that give credence to the idea that being strung out on coke or comfortably numb on Willie Nelson lead people to believe that their musical journey is pure magic. All the proof you need is here High AF Of course that is an extreme example but I believe you get my drift. And to be fair, one persons version of nails across a chalkboard is another's theme song to their life...that's the way it is right. Which leads me to The Stanfields, a band from backwoods Nova Scotia that broke out with a small local hit called The Dirtiest Drunk in History of Liquor. Yep...you read that right. I hated that song. A waste of digitized space pure and simple. I wouldn't pay money for their music, much less see them live. Didn't give them any thought what so ever.

Until I was forced to see them live. They were opening for The Trews, another backwoods Nova Scotia band that I did like. And you know what? They were great! First, they didn't play that song but more importantly they played an acoustic show which opened up the music to me in a way I didn't quite expect. And my was I pleasantly surprised. So much so that I mused about suggesting they permanently ditch the electric version of their band. Of course, as is often the case with music, an opening leads to new discoveries and an appreciation for things I knew little of. They are a pretty good band of songwriters with a hard and true view of life that they cast a light on in their own way. I so love that about music.

Anyhoooooo, their song Vermillion River is what brings me here today.

"What would they say if I went back empty handed?

They won’t know who I am for all I know

But I know they'd compare me to my brothers

And laugh behind my back if I went home"

This line caught my attention. The idea of living up to expectations and the effects that has on us and others around us specifically. I think of my daughters and what it means to live in a world that bombards them with images of the perfect body, the perfect clothes and the perfect hair. I think of my son and the just as ridiculous notion that a man can't be vulnerable and must join in behaviour they know to be simply wrong so as to fit in. I think of people around me striving for someones notion of what it means to be happy...the white picket fence, 2.2 kids, two cars in the garage and a labradoodle at your feet. No wonder advertising is such a huge business, because someone has got exactly what you need to help you on the path to happiness. As if that was actually possible through things; I've got a Swatch, I'm happy as fuck now...woooohoooooo

From an early age we are all subjected to expectations, not all of them are material and some are quite benign but they are there. As parents we want our kids to grow up healthy and successful to maybe have an easier way than we may have had. That's cool, I can dig that. What I can't dig though is living vicariously through your kids..."little Jake there is going to make the NHL...hey ref!!! What the hell are you doing....did you swallow your whistle?" Sound familiar? When my kids were in basketball I knew it was a thing to do for them, it wasn't the path to their future success. I didn't bank on their NBA signing bonus. I hoped that they would learn to play a team sport, have some fun and exercise and simply enjoy the game. While I could not care less for basketball, two of my kids loved it, so I sat in the stands like a good dad and politely cheered them on while my butt went numb on the bleachers. All around me there were pockets of the vocal parents that had other ideas in their heads. Talk about pressure from expectations and the downright rude behaviour that followed with these wannabe superstar parents. You should have seen the dirty look I got at the end of one championship game that our team lost. I went over to the other teams coach, shook his hand and congratulated him on his teams play and his coaching...they were better, plain and simple, and a lot of it had to do with his approach. When I turned to go back to my "side" I was greeted with side way sneers and whispered condemnations...you already know what I was thinking GFY.

That is not to say, by any stretch, that I am the perfect dad...far from it. For some reason I was too hard on my son when he was younger. And I have been guilty of being shocked and a little dismayed when one of my kids got less than their normal results on a test. I suppose when you get used to the high marks that they have been bringing, a B+ seems like a problem might have been brewing. Thankfully those days are long gone for me and I have chilled quite a bit, but I do think of them as my lapses and failures as a positive role model. I suppose those would be my own Leave it to Beaver expectations on myself. Funny.

Expectations can become like prisons if we let them dictate to us, surround us like walls and make us feel like failures if we haven't busted through them, exceeded those expectations. And maybe none more so than the ones we almost willingly place on ourselves. You know what I'm talking about. I have to have this career and earn this much money. I have to go to Cuba every year. I need this car and that watch. If not, I must be a failure...my friend or my sister has those things, I suck. And those are just the materialistic ones. The ones surrounding success of the emotional and intellectual variety are really draining if you allow them to get the better of you....making for hard miles ahead. I say no, what do you say?

Ciao
D