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Regrets? I’ve Had a Few
Remorse, self pity and moving on in the New Year
By Ryan Heinsius
Published on 12/31/2009
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“There were times, I’m sure you knew/When there was f**k f**k
f**k-all else to do/But through it all, when there was doubt/I shot it
up or kicked it out/I faced the wall and the world/And did it my
way.”
-Sid Vicious, “My Way”
One of my all-time favorite movies is the 1986 punk biopic “Sid and
Nancy.” The much-celebrated film about the off-his-rocker punk
legend Sid Vicious and his psycho-obsessive girlfriend Nancy
Spungen has become a standard bearer in the often-imitated world
of celebrity rock ‘n’ roll excess. The film chronicles the hardcore-
heroin-junkie Vicious-Spungen train wreck by both celebrating and
exposing the sweaty and desperate underbelly of the London and
New York street cultures of the late ’70s. It doesn’t end well for the
two—but that is indeed part of the grand rock ‘n’ roll story. No one
makes it out alive, even those who survive.
In one of the most potent moments in “Sid and Nancy,” (played
excellently by Gary Oldman and Chloe Webb, respectfully) the
filmmakers recreate the controversial video of Vicious covering (sort
of) the Paul Anka/Frank Sinatra classic “My Way.” Sporting a white
tux jacket and his trademark chain-and-padlock necklace, Vicious
shakily saunters down a lighted stairway only to sing the mostly
improvised-in-the-studio lyrics of “My Way” (evidently he didn’t know
the actual lyrics). At the end of the video, Vicious mock-guns down
the crowd with a pistol in a brutal bloodbath. Was it a moment of
punk rebellion? A commentary on the strange spotlight he had
been thrust into since joining the Sex Pistols as a bassist who
couldn’t really even play bass? Was it virtual senseless violence
perpetrated on an unsuspecting society? Whatever his artistic, or
non-artistic motives, Vicious created an enduring character that has
come to symbolize the reckless abandon and all-systems-go punk-
rock ethic. He died less than nine months after making the video for
“My Way.”
The Sid Vicious created by pop culture seemed to be one of those
rare individuals who possessed little to no sense of heartache,
nostalgia or remorse, at least not outwardly. Now, for the purposes
of good storytelling that’s great—someone who grabs life by the
horns, throws caution to the wind and never looks back. It’s what
we’re all encouraged to do, right? It’s what rock ‘n’ roll is all about in
theory, but Vicious never made it past 21. Live fast, die young and
leave a broken-down, frail, emaciated corpse. Regret, as it turns
out, can be a good thing. Just ask Jeffrey Dahmer or Ted Bundy.
As we near not only the end of the year but also the waning hours
of a decade, the concept of regret may be bubbling to the surface
in many peoples’ minds, triggering reminiscences—and they may
not all be pleasant. As Americans, our regrets often involve
materialism, all-encompassing social obligations or various missed
opportunities. Reflecting on the last year—or 10—of our lives, it’s
easy to become misty-eyed about the things we did, didn’t do,
couldn’t quite pull off or just plain forgot.
And around this time of
year, the lubricating wonders of papa alcohol tend to really coax
those emotions out of the subconscious and into the open air.
I got to thinking about all this heavy life-assessing stuff recently and
decided to call up well-known Flagstaff certified professional
counselor Bert Gershater for his always-poignant perspective on
life. Also a prolific author (his most recent book is “No Guts, No
Love”), poet and storyteller, Gershater, a 39-year Flagstaff resident,
is a motivational speaker and trainer who specializes in the human
condition. I figured he might have a few interesting things to say
about regret and the anxiety that a lot of people feel during the
holidays and toward the end of the year.
“The process of evaluating the year is an important one,” says
Gershater. “It marks: ‘OK, I did this this year. What’s my report card?
’ Without doing that at least some, then we’re just sort of floating
out there. We never even check our bearings. So, regrets in that
sense are actually necessary to get us on course. Where did I fall? I
think they have a very healthy usage for sure.”
Gershater, who works with mostly long-term clients and as a family
counselor, sees some level of remorse as a positive thing; perhaps
one of the most important elements to being human. After all, it’s
what keeps (most) humans from becoming total sociopaths, unable
to empathize with others.
“I think that in any healthy culture there needs to be a healthy
regret because that’s where the conscience is. If there’s no regret,
then there’s no acknowledgement of violation,” he says. “There’s no
sorrow. The very word(s) ‘I’m sorry’; if we look that one up, means I
have sorrow for what I’ve done and the impact it’s had on you. In all
civilizations and all cultures there’s some way to heal violations. It’s
built into the culture.
“I’ll tell you what lasts longer are resentments—what people did to
us. People hold onto those for a lifetime. Those are pretty common.
By and large, people can blame other people more than they can
blame themselves.”
So what keeps us from becoming anemic, ever-repentant, remorse-
laden blobs of flesh? According to Gershater, it’s all about balance
and recognizing our screw-ups and moving on.
“On the regret scale there’s a whole spectrum—people who wallow
in their regret and literally use it as an excuse to not move on.
People who get stuck in a negative self concept about something
they might have done sometime in their lives and they get trapped
there,” he says. “It definitely has the whole spectrum. It could be
used to move forward or it could be used to stay in the same place.”
But, as with all things, thoughts require action for them to have any
sort of meaning. Just like the passive teeming Twitter and Facebook
masses, or the federal government’s treatment of the nation’s
banking system—words alone won’t solve much.
Says Gershater, “I think there are people who go, ‘OK, I’m going to
lose 20 pounds,’ or ‘I’m going to be nicer to my wife,’ or ‘I’m going to
write that book that I said I was going to write,’ or ‘I’m going to start
playing the guitar.’ And I think—I don’t know if there’s a bell curve
on that, but I’m sure there’s some sort of curve where some people
say it and that’s the last they experience that thought. Or it stays as
a thought. It never goes to the next place, which is some form of
commitment to make that happen. Which would be if you wanted to
lose weight then you join the athletic club, but then you could join
the athletic club and not go. Or you could go for January.
“We as a culture—maybe as a species, I’m not sure—we do want
things fast. And change of that kind has nothing to do with fast. It
has everything to do with slow and steady, and increments and
some level of commitment to whatever it is you’re going to do. I
think that is harder to find—for people to make a shift, because
we’re creatures of habit, and change is harder than habit, by
definition. Habit’s easy. Habits are like the default in the computer.
We just go to it. To do something consciously—to actually have
some elevation in it—if you want to actually get the plane off the
ground you’ve got to use some fuel. Falling is easy.”
And for anyone living in Flagstaff, the sharp edge of the regret
season might be slightly dulled by the fact that we live where we
live. Gershater’s long-term experience in northern Arizona has
shown him a population that may just be a little more content than
most.
“I would say that Flagstaff—and it’s certainly not the entire
population—but a lot of people come here because it’s a beautiful
place and their values are different,” he says. “We sort of accept
that fact that we’re not getting rich here, but we’re rich just by being
here. There’s a lot of wealth that isn’t counted in the bank account.”
But, as always, most big ideas can be summed up by a choice song
lyric or two. After all, the poetry of rock ‘n’ roll always provides a
simple explanations for the deepest emotions:
“Regrets? I’ve had a few. But then again, too few to mention.”
We polled the staff here at Flag Live to find out what
their
regrets were from 2009. Read and learn …
I shouldn’t have brought that monkey back from Panama.
I wish I hadn’t ignored those sores.
I regret taking out that second mortgage to buy lottery tickets.
I shouldn’t have flipped off that guy with the “NRA 4 Ever” bumper
sticker.
I should not have spent the last of my quarters on the sex toy
vending machine at the Chevron in Seligman just to get “all four
prizes.”
I went too far when sharing my passion for Tyler Perry films.
I regret telling my family I had cancer so I could go skiing on
Christmas.
I shouldn’t have told that guy I had oral herpes so I wouldn’t have
to kiss him goodnight.
I should not have laughed at my neighbor falling of the roof while
trying to remove snow before it was my turn to get up on my icy
roof.
I regret going on a pity date with my cousin.
I regret investing in the Slanket instead of the Snuggie.
I should have stopped at five beers, two whiskeys and a
cheeseburger.
I regret picking that fight with the Salvation Army bell ringer, but he
was provoking me big time.
“Hold my beer while I jump!”
Chainsaws: evidently not a children’s toy.
They sure weren’t kidding about peeing on that electric fence.
Make good toilet paper poison ivy does not.
I should have called a cab instead of having my 8-year-old son
drive me home from the bar.
She sure didn’t look like a man …
I should not have taken my date to the Celine Dion show in Vegas.
Or, at least I should have not mouthed the words to all of the songs
while leaning forward in my chair.
Next time, make sure the cell number you are “sexting” to isn’t your
mom’s.
Don’t box with your dad. He’ll win.
I wish I hadn’t made fun of that guy who turned out to be
handicapped.
I wish I hadn’t bought my mom a Shake Weight for Christmas.
I regret admitting on the radio that I’m obsessed with Yani.
I regret posting video of my colonoscopy on Facebook.
I regret not thoroughly researching the acronyms used in personal
ads before making that phone call.
I wish I hadn’t broken up with my girlfriend via Twitter.
I don’t look as cool as Mike Tyson with these facial tribal tattoos.
I really should not have kept eating from the two-pound box of
chocolates to find the flavor I wanted, only to realize that flavor was
not included in the variety.
I should not have shared the homoerotic dream I had about Steve
Gutenberg with my co-workers.
I should not have attended the stage show version of “I Can’t
Believe It’s Not Butter!”
I should have known that jousting on jet skis was a bad idea.
I regret eating that double burrito before my flight to Tokyo.
Why did I let her film that?
I should have thought first of the name of the tool used to break up
ice on the pavement before going to the hardware store and just
making the butter-churn hand motion to explain what I wanted.
I should have checked the spelling when Googling “Canal Street,
New York” at work to make sure I did not accidentally leave out the
“C.”
I should not have gone to see “G.I. Joe: Rise of Cobra.”
I should have just walked away from the popcorn butter self-serve
station at the movie theater.
I should not have named my daughter Paris.
I should have not attempted to change out of my pants while
driving.
I should not have joked that one of my co-workers lives in a
“gingerbread trailer” and eats children.
It probably was not the best idea to date a woman nicknamed
“Octomom.”
I wish I had waited for cooler temperatures before attempting to
shave a name in my chest.
I should not have challenged the entire cast of Cirque du Soleil to a
kick-boxing match.
When crossing over Hoover Dam, I should not have shouted “Death
to the Infidels!” while firing an AK-47 into the air from my windowless
van.
I should have thought twice about my Walgreens shopping list
when it read: dog leash, rubber gloves, condoms, drain cleaner,
duct tape, plastic sheeting, suppositories.
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