The Talk

I’m thinking about having a talk with my son. We talk all the time about six-year-old kinds of things: Bey Blades, Harry Potter, Pixar movies, music, Kung Fu and his friends at school. This talk I’m THINKING of having is more of a “life’s lessons” kind of thing.

I’m a pretty happy guy. I have some whiny complaints here and there but surely my life is good. I’m happily married to a fun and smart lady who had the good sense not to take my last name. My son who is learning to be funny but is very kind and taking to the piano is precious to me. I have a good job and plenty of TERRIFIC friends and relatives to round out a pretty good life.

The reason I want to talk to him is that I have figured out something that has really made me pretty happy. I want to pass this little gem off to him and let him do with it from an early age of six that I only began to figure out in my mid 30s. I feel like this is so important a piece of information that I can’t risk not giving it to him one more minute because if I were to die now (probability percentage in the low teens currently), I wouldn’t be able to let him in on a wonderful secret.

I want to tell him that he’s never going to be the best at anything.

Oh, I can already hear your eyes rolling. But come on, it’s true. The moment I realized I wasn’t going to be the best at anything, the weight of the world lifted and I was able to really enjoy my life. I wasn’t trying to prove myself to anyone or better my score for the sake of success. I was just able to see the big picture rather than tunnel vision to an impossibly difficult goal. I was liberated! Liberated by the threat of greatness.

Humor me here. I don’t know if his little six-year-old brain is able to fully comprehend the gravity of what I’m giving him, but surely it would be an idea he could grow into. I could continue to nurture it as well, provided I don’t have some kind of fatal accident or drop dead of a heart attack or other illness.

I envision the talk going something like this:

Son: Dad, I’m going to be the best Kung Fu master in the whole world!

Dad: No you won’t.

Son: (puzzled) I’m not? Why can’t I be the best Kung Fu master in the world?

Dad: I don’t doubt that if you applied yourself, you could learn a very decent amount of Kung Fu, but nowhere near enough to be the best. The best Kung Fu masters begin as babies and study only Kung Fu, their whole lives. You’re already too old to make that kind of commitment. You might learn enough to get yourself into trouble, but not enough to be the best.

Son: Well then, what can I be the best at?

Dad: Probably nothing…if you’re lucky.

Son: Why would it be lucky to not be the best at something? I want to be the best at SOMETHING.

Dad: I know it sounds like it would be something good, doesn’t it? But really, it’s just a curse that would probably make you bitter and waste most of your life in the pursuit.

Son: Why would it be bad? Bad is bad and best is best.

Dad: Well, if for some reason, you happen to END UP the best at something, it isn’t that bad, because that means you didn’t throw your whole heart into something only to have it crushed by some other Bozo who naturally does it better. You see, when you fight and claw your way to the top of anything, there’s always several other people trying to pull you down, and many others just want to watch you fall. Nobody is the best at anything forever. Everybody who was the best at something eventually comes down and isn’t the best anymore. Sure, they may fight their way back to the top for a little while, but trust me, that won’t last and it will just make the onlookers point and laugh harder.

Son: They laugh at you if you are the best?

Dad: Were the best. Remember, it never lasts. Tiger woods, Michael Phelps, Barry Bonds, these are all guys that wanted to be the best and now they are punch lines to jokes. You know who came in second to Michael Phelps?

Son: I don’t know who Michael Phelps IS.

Dad: EXACTLY! He was a hot item barely before you became aware of pop culture. He got beat a couple times after the Olympics and now he’s just a has-been. While the guy that came in second to Michael Phelps has a pretty good life. Nobody is ripping him apart in the press. No crazy pressure to keep on winning. He can even impress people with lines like, “I swam against Michael Phelps,” and “want to see my silver medal?” Cool lines, and the Paparazzi never follow him around.

Son: What’s a Papzarazzati?

Dad: I’ll tell you when you’re older. The important part is that being the best sucks. It can make you jealous and bitter, or the people around you jealous and bitter. That can lead to terrible things. Tonya Harding was a figure skater that had another figure skater clubbed in the knee because she wanted to be the best. Do you want to hurt other people to be the best at something son? Do you want to be the person that IS hurt? Jennifer Lopez played the part of a pretty girl who was one of the best singers in Mexico and she was killed out of jealousy because she was the best. Jimi Hendrix was killed by his manager because he was one of the best. In fact many rich and famous “best” rock stars destroy their lives and the lives of others with the pressures to stay on top. Do you want to die to be the best? Don’t cry.

Son: I don’t want to die, I just wanted to do Kung Fu.

Dad: I’m sorry kid. But it’s so much better to just be okay or kind-of good at something, that way nobody asks too much of you and you can enjoy the simpler things in life.

Son: But I’m best at the piano.

Dad: Not even close kid. (queue up video of 6 year old Chinese piano prodigy on Youtube.) Did you see that? She was amazing and you know she’s not even the best at the piano. Nobody even knows her name. She’s living in a country with two billion other people and yet her Youtube video only has 6,000 views. She’s probably practicing right now and what are you doing? Fake Kung Fu, and you haven’t even cleaned up your chess set from our match earlier. Good job on that match by the way, I didn’t let you win. You beat me fair and square in that chess match.

Son: Well, maybe I could be the best at…

Dad: No. No way. Not even close. I’m glad you like chess, I’m sure it’s opening up pathways in your brain that you’ll use to negotiate difficult situations and work environments later in life, but don’t think that because you were able to beat your old man at a game of chess that you’re going to be the next Bobby Fisher.

Son: Who…

Dad: He was the best chess player EVER, and he died alone in exile because being the best at chess drove him crazy.

Son: I’m just sad because I’ll never be the best at anything.

Dad: Well, I’ve never been the best at anything and I have a pretty good life. I have you and mommy and Oscar and Gracie…

Son: Well they’re the best dogs!

Dad: Uh-uh. Nope, they are good dogs but Gracie barks too much and Oscar has weapons grade gas. Best dogs do neither. …Buddy, just try YOUR best and do what you’re supposed to do. But remember, You’ll never be The President of the United States, you don’t want that job anyway, no matter what you do, half the country will always hate you. You’ll never be an Astronaut and that’s OKAY! It’s very hard, very dangerous and nobody likes science anymore. You’ll never be a famous actor or rockstar, the majority of them are awful human beings but you can act, and you can rock, but those famous lifestyles are strictly for sociopaths. But if it is so important for you to be best at something, remember mommy and daddy love you and you’ll always be our best child.

Son: I’m your only child.

Dad: Don’t push it son. Let’s go get a burrito.

Son: Okay.

I know it seems a little harsh and maybe echoes of bitterness in my life, but I may have prevented years of necessary therapy to undo an “over achiever” complex. We’ve been conditioned to think that it’s a good thing, but do we really like these people, or secretly despise them? I honestly don’t know but I can tell you that anyone ruining the bell curve usually gets the stink eye, and that’s the Damm truth.