Here’s an example of a person (Alex Van Halen) so good at their craft that known masters can talk endlessly about one perfect moment or piece of their artistry. The phrase “Game recognizes game” doesn’t quite portray the overall feeling. This seems more like a moment where a master craftsman is lamenting and allowing themselves to be in awe of a person (or maybe a piece of that person) that totally exceeds their own ability. The person who made this video even admits that it took him five years to learn to play this intro just to be able to talk about the mythical intro.
It reminds me of a time where I heard Bill Burr talk about Dave Chappelle and how just watching Chappelle do his work could make Burr feel inadequate. And how I myself felt that was impossible. I thought: “How could Bill Burr, a literal millionaire and a master of comedy—how can he say that about another comedian and not have even a tone of competition in his voice?” But I feel like maybe acknowledging greatness in others does a few things. On some level, we become an expert on the subject. Like a sommelier is able to dissect and detect every note of a glass of wine, the “master craftsman who laments” (I guess I’ve decided that this is what I’ll call Bill Burr, the professional drummers in this video, and myself) is able to really look, hear, smell, taste, feel that other piece of art or craft and can truly appreciate it more than any pedestrian fan of the craft.
The whole notion is a little confusing. Because let’s take these drummers and Burr for example. They’re all very successful. Not only in their own rights—they’re absolutely successful masters because they’ve found financial success and possibly spiritual or personal satisfaction in their own rights. BUT we are all taught that success is being at the top of the hill, the one who holds the trophies, the one who—when you think of that thing—is the epitome of that thing. How can someone I thought was at the top of the hill say they’re only halfway up? Plus they’re millionaires?!
What I do NOT want to think is that there’s a perfectionist mindset there. Like: “There’s never been a top of the mountain. Once you think you’re at the top, you’re not.” I feel like the successful people I idolize aren’t stressful enough to be perfectionists.
Another thought was—maybe the goal is to be a renaissance man. So I’ve gotten to the top of this mountain, now let me climb another. And the collection of summits makes me great, makes me unique. This is why I find myself adding things like handyman, drywalling, tiling, plumbing, forklift certified—all to a résumé while trying to find a bartending job.
But I guess the one thing I always hear is: there is only one of you. I should focus on being the best Michael Rausa I can be. But that doesn’t satisfy me… so… Thoughts.
