giddyiguana

My friend Sionkali posted this...I'm not sure if it's a poem or a song, but either way it's got me thinking.

"A system breakdown, can you remember your name?
did you forget you?
Did you forget your identity?"

So just what IS my identity, anyways?

It's strange. I was watching this video in sociology class a few days ago. It was an exploration into social class in America, which of course in America is pretty much decided by your tax bracket. Everyone from the poorest trailer-park trash to the snootiest old-money WASPs were discussed and interviewed in this video, and I couldn't help but notice that everyone in it reminded me not only of someone from my past, but someone of whom I was very fond at one point or another. To paraphrase the great Kid Rock, I've slept in dumpsters and gotten high with kings! It would seem that I've achieved that to which every true social chameleon strives: to be universally accepted, regardless of the situation.

Or have I?

The funny thing is, I have yet find anywhere I really 'belong.' People, regardless of their station in life, never seem to be able to accept that I'm one of 'them.' It's funny. Take my accent, for example...yes, I'm from the South, but I've actively tried to soften the drawl so people won't perceive me as 'just another redneck.' As a result, Southerners think I must be from Ohio or somewhere; meanwhile, my Canadian friends still accuse me of sounding like Forrest Gump.

And not just with accents...members of nearly any group you could name view me just as a likeable member of 'the other team.' Let's consider age for a moment. Adults view me as a very mature, well-spoken, thoughtful YOUNG man; meanwhile, kids think of me as just an unfortunately-overgrown kid. Or by income bracket: rich people view me as an upwardly-mobile, educated, poor-but-proud member of the working class, while the poor view me as a 'bourgie' who's not above getting down and having fun with 'them' occasionally. Or politically...the political establishment views me as an outsider who may be the 'future of the party' but shouldn't be taken too seriously just yet; meanwhile, those within the activist community view me as too much of an 'insider' to be fully accepted as one of them. Christians view me as a partier who must be actively seeking Truth; Partiers view me as a church-goer who'll rather hypocritically party down on occasion.

The list goes on, but you get the idea. There's a clear distinction between tolerance and acceptance, and I still haven't figured out the secret to the latter. It's strange and a little sad, really...I've been trying so hard to be everything to everyone else that I never took the time to figure out just who I am and wound up not really 'belonging' anywhere as a result. How am I supposed to remember my identity when I never really had one in the first place?

So I've been pondering...just who IS the 'real' Harold Geddings, III, anyways? I'd be tempted to say it's whoever I am when no one is around, but...the fact is, when no one is around, I kind of go into shut-down mode. Being a social chameleon is exhausting work, after all, and when there's no one around to adapt to, I'll typically just lay around and watch cartoons or something. I'll play with my animals, chill out in the backyard, drive around aimlessly, listen to a selection from my decidedly-eclectic CD collection, play with my computer, read, or maybe go to the lake and feed the ducks. In other words, the 'real' Harold Geddings, III is a complete loner, a bit of an outdoorsman, and pretty lazy bastard, as near as I can tell. And the sad part is, I'm not really 'happy' being any of the above.

What a crisis.

Ladies and gentlemen, I think I'm going to step out for a while and go look for myself. If you see me before I get back, do me a favor and tell me to stay put until I get here.