Matt Patterson

I’ve never really considered myself to be an existentialist. As interesting as I find the concept, it has always seemed like an odd practice. I’ve always enjoyed entertaining thought and philosophy, trying to understand what I believe, why I believe it, and upon what those beliefs are contingent. But beyond that, I’ve never been a “live for the moment” person; I am always thinking about the future, calculating the future significance of my present actions. I usually don’t make decisions without reflecting on the past.

But lately, I have had no choice.  I find myself in an unfamiliar world of massive debt; I got here, not by choice, but by circumstance.  This is the land of opportunity, where anyone can attend college by means of private borrowing and obtain a career lucrative enough to repay that borrowing, at least until he is stopped dead in the middle of the process, still liable for past debts, unable to obtain future ones and therefore unable to obtain the education he needs.  Then struck by disaster, cancer, covered by insurance but still so overwhelming as to ruin his life–my life.  And to top it all off, brake lines on the car rust through, adding $500 worth of insult to financial injury.

Was it for this life of debt and anguish that I fought the darkness of cancer?  To be quite honest, was it worth the fight?  Or would this soul be better off dead, free from the anguish?  Certainly, there would have been some pain in dying, but such pain is only short-lived, unlike the pain of living paycheck-to-paycheck, trying simply to get by and survive.

And so maybe this journey has created an existentialist in me, because in this election year, I could care less if the so-called “Marriage Protection Amendment” passes:  allowed to marry or not, I still must carry this burden; I could care less if a Democrat becomes President, or a Republican:  I will still find myself in a maelstrom of debt; I could care less if we achieve healthcare for all, since it will have no ex post facto effect on my situation.

So is this a life I would fight for again?  A life so shrouded in misery that I must cherish every minute I am alive, since I may find out, in the next, that I will die, or my life will be ruined in one way or another?   A life where, even if I can control the financial burden I carry, I may never be able to get a decent job without a degree–since I have all but given up on a college education right now–or buy a car or a home simply because I was a victim of circumstance?  Is this a life that was worth fighting for?  With every minute that goes by, I find it harder and harder to answer that question.

Kenny Chesney definitely had it right, there are songs that have the innate ability to to take us back, through our memories, to past times and places.  I was reminded of this recently, when I came upon the music video for “Best of Me” by the Starting Line on YouTube.  Somehow, that song struck the right chord in my brain, and so I began to reminisce.  In doing so, I went back to Kenny’s song, and decided to make some changes.Maybe I will post a video of my official “cover” later.

 ”The Rock Show” painted a picture of my life at that time
A young kid looking for all the good times I could find
I heard it today and couldn’t help but sing along
‘Cause every time I hear that song…

I go back to the floor of that Hangout spot
Stayin’ out too late, trying not to get caught
Livin’ life, just trying to fit in
And I go back to the halls of that old high school
Pushing on and just trying to stay cool
Wishing time would pass, “world here I come”
Every time I hear that song, I go back, I go back

“Greg’s Last Day” told the story as I packed up the car
Gonna start a new life in a city nice and far
I heard it today and I couldn’t help but sing along
‘Cause every time I hear that song…

I go back to the hope, the laughs and thrills
The speed and snow on that black diamond hill
And graduation, saying farewell to friends
I go back to the Point in the summer sun
Growin’ up to fast, now that it’s done
Wishin’ time would stop right in its tracks
Every time I hear that song, I go back, I go back

We all have a song that’s somehow stamped our lives,
Takes us to another place and time

So I go back to the loss of some real good friends,
The short time on Earth I spent with them,
And even those I didn’t know so well
And I go back to the day when I got that news,
The war I’d fight and wouldn’t lose,
Now “I Run for Life” stops me in my tracks
Every time I hear that song, I go back, I go back

To the halls of that old high school,
Pushing on, just trying to stay cool, I go back

To the Point in the summer sun
Gowin’ up to fast, now that it’s done, I go back

To the day when I got that news,
The war I’d fight and wouldn’t lose, I go back

In some sense, life was so much easier back then (and I use that term loosely), and yet back then is when I (and probably most of my friends) wanted time to fly–screw high school, college will be way more fun, right?  Maybe, maybe not.  If nothing else, I certainly have greater appreciation for the time I spent in high school:  going to shows at the Hangout and Forward Hall, lifting with Mike Ghamo, going to Eat’n'Park or Perkins at 1am with a huge group of people I don’t even know, going to Peek’n Peak every Thursday during the winter and hanging at the sugar shack, learning to ski and then challenging myself at three of the best ski resorts in Vermont, dealing with diseases and deaths, finding myself, learning to fly, hanging out with some of the greatest friends I’ve ever known.

And that’s just to start.  Am I really going to be able to say I did as much in my four (or more…) years in college?  I hope so, but even if I do, they will be different experiences, with different value, and of course, different songs.

I guess above all, I’ve learned so far to live for today, because none of us is above our fate, and there might not be a tomorrow.  Too many people in my life had to find that out the hard way; I was almost one of them.  But thanks to a well-timed visit to the doctor, I soldier on.

To borrow the ever-popular tagline from the musical “Rent,”
No day but today.