High Hopes

High Hopes. Everybody at one time or another has them. Have yours dimmed? The song that always gets me thinking about the past, the future, and my own present is 'High Hopes' by Pink Floyd. Enter the recently released David Gilmour DVD and this post. High Hopes is on the setlist on the disc, as it also was a part of the set that I saw at Radio City. I first heard the song in 1994 when the Division Bell album dropped and I was still learning the ways of the classic rock titans. This song was my Stairway to Heaven, my Terrapin Station, my You Enjoy Myself, which is to say my not-exactly-radio friendly epic opus that was always on repeat and had me growing up in my cultural leanings. If you think that's sad, hey, I was 15 so cut me some slack. Every damn time I hear the song now I do a reassessment of my life. Some people do that after they attend weddings or even funerals. The full life check-up. I don't know why but mine happens to occur when 'High Hopes' is on.

I moved to New York City in late 2004. There was a very good reason. College graduation/first job happened four years earlier in 2000. My immediate dreams of a playboy lifestyle were in full force. I wanted to go to bars just like I did in college, knowing 75% of the people there, walking laps around, and chatting with girl after girl along the way. I figured for sure that graduating college would continue this debaucherous/flirtatious lifestyle just with a whole lot of money in my pocket and a saucer full of confidence overflowing with my professional life and personal life in perfect order. High Hopes indeed.

Reality set in and I found myself instead lingering around my old campus as a post-graduate trying to hold onto my college girlfriend and living 30 miles deep into the suburbs. Hugh Hefner I was not. As the first few post-collegiate years yielded little but a broken relationship, Sundays eating Quiznos or Taco Bell in a faux-blissed out state in front of the TV, losing touch with the "married" ones of my friends, or sitting in suburban bars with seemingly even the 40-years olds still reminiscing about their own college and younger years, a BIG change was in order. Only 24, my own high hopes for myself couldn't possibly be dashed that quickly, could they? Enter New York City. A clean break, a fresh start, new girls to meet, a big city to conquer, and a suitcase full of hopes and dreams.

As for New York City, I'm still working on the conquering part. And after additional ended relationships, the only love I'm currently in is with my new one-bedroom sans roommate, my new Sony flatscreen, and my bonus check. And the pleasure in the fact that I'll be having drinks in my adopted home neighborhood of the East Village with another member of The Weightstaff tonight chatting about high school, college, girls, work, and perhaps a little Pink Floyd. For what it is worth, enjoy my rambling, enjoy the song, and let me know how your own life-check goes. Just be prepared for a little good 'ol fashioned personal honesty. And as for any updates in the future on this life of mine, I'll let you know as soon as I hear the Division Bell ringing in the background again...Stay Tuned.

High Hopes
Pink Floyd