Over the past year, I’ve had cause to consider the real world – as opposed to the one I live in. I have begun to examine the vast chasm that exists between where my head is at day-to-day versus the land in which most people operate. I have been lead to evaluate myself and my relationship to people around me. It’s been interesting. You may be scratching your head wondering what I’m on about and what this has to do with “Vintage Leisure”. Let me try to explain.

First of all, where are the retro-types in the crowd? Let me hear you. I wonder how you came to be living, as I am, This Vintage Life. And I have to ask; do you sometimes feel, as I have, totally alone living this life? I wonder if you can relate to this tale I feel compelled to tell and let me start by asking – do you have friends? I mean friends.

Remember when you were a kid? We all had friends. Kids that lived next door, kids in our class. Maybe in Scouts or on the ball team. Y’know – friends. All of these things stress having something in common. Now, what about when we “grow up”? Or, I should say, “get older”. Many of us are married and many have children. Now what about your friends? Got any? Many of us can answer emphatically no; who’s got time for friends when you’re raising your family?

OK, so say you are married, you have a child or two and you are working full-time. Here is the point in life when friendships take a hit. But in the cafeteria at work you are keen to engage with others, to talk about the tournament this coming weekend or the game last night. Or you talk about work. Or politics, or society, or your in-laws. Nice to have some things in common. Heck, these things may even lead to shared kicks with your co-workers outside of work. Imagine!

Say you’re a normal regular person. You could talk about a million things with a million different people. Maybe you snowmobile in the winter, hit the cottage in the summer, maybe you’re a golfer or a Toronto Maple Leafs fan, maybe you hunt. Let’s say you’re normal. How lucky you are! How easy your life is. What a breeze. Anywhere, anytime with anybody you can find commonalities. Must be nice.

Now, I’ll speak to my people. What if you are not so regular? What if you read books? What if you hear music in your head all week and plan what to listen to on the weekend? What if you live in the past, in black and white? What if you watch westerns or silent films or Sixties television shows? What if you couldn’t care one iota what is going on in the modern world? What if you are introverted? Let me ask you – who can you talk to? And what about when you realize the answer is “no one”?

That’s the boat I’m in but I’ve always found I was fine with it. I’ve never sought friendship for myself because I knew I would have little in common with anyone I met. So, what’s the point? Speaking of reading, for 25 years, I lugged all manner of books into work, all shapes, sizes and weights. I read on my breaks and this helped me get through 20+ books every year. People at work who didn’t know me knew I was the guy who read books. Once or twice through the years, someone would inexplicably sit down at my table – while I was reading – and start talking to me. Guy probably thought “lookit this poor shlub. No one will talk to him so he’s stuck reading books”. No. Guess what? I choose to read on my break so leave me alone.

And then, I made a friend.

Tentatively, we began to converse at work and we found that we had things in common. Even when our commonalities differed, it was a case of “the same but different” and we were both interested in the other’s take and perspective. We talked about not only our interests but about work and life stuff. We shared book-reading, faith journeys, marriage and family with two sons and trying to maintain an internet presence through websites and social media. To say I was surprised by all this is an understatement. Perhaps what was most surprising of all was the fact that I really enjoyed having a friend – something I was always OK not having.

See, I’ve always said that I’m a lousy friend. I don’t want to go out with you or hang at your house. And though I can talk with you all day long, what I am left with to talk with you about when we have nothing in common interests me not at all. I can make someone talk about themselves all day and while I do find some interest in what people have to say that interest is superficial and is more out of respect for the person than in what they have to say.

But I was able to share with this friend and it was nice. The fact that she was a woman presented some challenges but it was nice. It took the sting out of work. I had gone almost 25 years without making a real friend and I don’t think I had ever really missed having one – but making one was a blessing to me. To say I considered it a rarity is also an understatement and I will go so far as to say that I don’t expect to make another new, real world friend in my lifetime. I just can’t see something like this happening again.

Eventually, I know I will be faced with this friend leaving my everyday life and our friendship will become more sporadic and will be based less on physical proximity and more on keeping in touch by texting, etc. While this will be at first painful, I’ll remain surprised and grateful that this even happened at all. And, going forward, having someone out there that I can talk to, someone that I have connected with in this way, will be greatly beneficial to me, I know.

I guess my point in sharing what is basically a diary entry is to feel some support going on the assumption that there will be someone out there like me who gets what I’m saying. I’ve been gifted with many like-minded people I have met “in the ether” who have become “friends” and that is great. One day I’d even like to meet some of them in person. The internet, I suppose then, does serve a good purpose by bringing people like us together.

“I’ll go my way by myself like a bird on the wing
I’ll face the unknown, I’ll build a world of my own;
No one knows better than I, myself, I’m by myself alone.
I’ll try to fly high above for a place in the sun
I’ll face the unknown, I’ll build a world of my own;
No one knows better than I, myself, I’m by myself alone.”

Schwartz/Dietz, 1937

By the way, don’t think I’m being too dramatic with the title of this piece. When thinking of what to call it, the story of Elvis Presley’s “Heartbreak Hotel” came to mind. The songwriter had based the tale in the lyrics on a newspaper story of a suicide. The poor soul had left behind a note that said only “I walk a lonely street”.

The thoughts presented here have been percolating the last few months. What has been happening to me recently is a self-assessment, some introspection. I have learned much about myself through all of this. I’ve learned something about what I call my “default settings” or “the way I’m wired”. The way I instinctively think and feel about people and things. Some of these settings I’m OK with because that’s who I am but some I’d like to change. I’ve learned that my feelings can get wildly out of control and that my imagination truly knows no bounds; I’ve always said that my imagination will either kill me or save my life. Lately it’s come closer to killing me.

And my final discovery about myself through this process is that in many ways I really do walk alone. When work, family, marriage, paying bills, when “life” is happening all around me, my mind is wandering through shadowy corridors, traveling through a land of imagination and wonder, thinking of movies to watch, books to read and music to listen to and thinking about what I get from all this, what it provides me. I’m busy feeling. When life is happening, I am thinking only of escape. I’m forever looking over the horizon. I may even say that I do not care or I don’t want to care. I don’t particularly like that I feel this way but…there it is. Maybe you feel like you walk alone, too. You may not have a thousand “Friends” or “Followers” to share with and you may go through life having no one in the real world with whom to talk about the things you are interested in. Well, I get it. I feel you. My mind-travels are solitary endeavours and while I’m OK with that, I’m happy to say that I have cherished one real life friendship lately and I always enjoy interacting with all of you through this site and through social media. I feel like many of you will understand what I’ve been saying.

And now back to this website’s fun and frivolity…

“And a rock feels no pain
and an island never cries.”

from “I Am a Rock”, Paul Simon’s defiant ode to solitude