Backup QB

It's strange to have a NFL work stoppage. The last one happened in the mid-80's, and I neither understood nor cared enough about those things then. During a normal offseason, the QB of your favorite team is AMAZING. He's the guy that'll lead your team to the promised land, the guy who will shatter all passing records, hit every accuracy mark, and woo all the ladies with his chiseled jaw, wavy hair, and powerful biceps. Something happens, though, during the regular season. Suddenly, your golden-haired heir is a bum, a scumbag, a second-rate clown, a piece of meat to be fed to the dogs. All of a sudden, the backup QB is the most popular guy in the media, the most talked about player on sports talk radio. It doesn't matter if he's never played a single down of regular season ball. But he threw three TD's in that final preseason game! Yeah. Preseason. Somehow he's the savior of the team? Seriously? He's going to turn that 1-7 season into a playoff berth? Really? Um...no.

But what is it about us that makes us so quick to want to touch the grass on the other side of the street? Heck, we don't just want to touch it, we want to lay down in it, and make snow (grass) angels in it while letting its wavy blades caress our bare skin. We want to revel in it. We get completely sold out for the grass on the other side. We can't really see it. I mean, it's a long way away. That street is REALLLLLYYYY wide. And crossing it is a very dangerous action. There's lots of traffic, and you might just get creamed by a Mack truck along the way. But you want it, right? It certainly looks better than what you have right now. You know exactly what you have, right? Faults and all. Your QB (or whatever) is not as green as he used to be. And he's pretty routine. You know what you're getting, and you know what you're not getting. And it's good, but it's not perfect. Hmm.

Obviously, I'm not just talking about football. This happens in every part of our lives. We always want what we don't have. Money, cars, homes, spouses, jobs, etc. Something else MUST be better, because what I have isn't perfect. It doesn't matter that what I have is pretty good. Or that it's actually really good. I just know in my heart that the object of my desire has to be better. Because, while I'm happy, I'm not overjoyed each and every moment. I'm not jumping up and down with a mountaintop experience each time I experience whatever it is I have now.

Why do we do this? In America, I think this stems from the idea of Republicanism. I'm not talking about the Republican Party. Nay, this is an idea. This is an ethos. We are bred here to believe that we are the masters of our own universe. The kings and queens of the castle. The world is our oyster. Simply put, that we are destined for greatness. Our country was founded on this principle. The sky was the limit for the founding fathers. This thought that "all men were created equal" flew in the face of the current world caste system that existed at the time. Think about it. No one had gone against these ideas before. Prior to the foundation of our great nation, the world had been ruled by rulers. Even in "democratic" Rome, there was still a ruling hierarchy. Look at American Idol. Millions of people all over the country show up to sing, each of them thinking they have a shot at being the next "Big Star". Reality? Most of them will never, ever have a shot at greatness in that field. 24 people out of the millions make it to the final round. Of that round, only 2 or 3 have a professional music career longer than 1 or 2 years. Less than 40 people in the last decade are still household names. Yet we believe that we are all able to be that, simply because we are born into a system that tells us we can. We want what we can't have, and society lets us think it's okay. I had a voice student once who auditioned for American Idol 5 years in a row, never getting beyond the judges. Yet she believed that she was going to be the next superstar, if only someone noticed. The grass is greener on the superstar side. What she failed to see was that she had it pretty good where she was. She was ready to be a local musician, ready to start gigging, and working her way up the ladder, and doing it the way countless musicians have done before. Instead, she wanted what she can't really have, and what she didn't understand. She didn't realize that American Idol is a fool's game. You are owned by the record label, and have no artistic control over anything you do. If you work your way up the way everyone else has, for years and years, then you retain control over your art. Hmm. She doesn't realize yet that the grass isn't really greener. We want what we can't, or shoudn't have.

So, what's the deal? I'd love to come back to this. Let's talk some more about this soon. Until then, I've got a Backup QB to start pulling for. I think I'm gonna get a head start this year.