Jonathan Brandis:
My "Sidekick".
By David C.
Author's note: I apologize in advance for my habitual method of expositionary writing. I realize that it may come across at times as long-winded, but there's a reason for that. In my non-fiction work I examine EVERYTHING to do with a subject that I'm writing about, and I try as best as I can in my writing to leave nothing out there as vague. Especially on serious subjects which are dear to me. The last thing on this Earth that I plan to do, is leave behind work that says, "Now what the heck did he MEAN by that?" Well, if you really want to know... read on...
I hate death. Especially when it's someone close to me. No, I never met Jon in a face to face way. As a really good book says though, "Just because you never meet some people, doesn't mean they don't or can't directly affect your life somehow." (Mitch Abram, The 5 People You Meet In Heaven). There's a world of truth in that. Let's face it: there's a whole host of people who for various reasons (most of the time because they're dead!) that you'll never meet in your daily life, and yet they'll affect your life in some pretty significant ways. Read the Bible, read Mark Twain, or read the Declaration of Independance. Although I'll never meet Ben Franklin, Thomas Paine, John Hancock or Thomas Jefferson... what those men did for America and for freedom, is felt by every living person IN America today. Including me. Jon Brandis, affected my life for fifteen years before he died. And he continues to affect my life, even today.
To me, he was.... and remains to this day, a contemporary, an inspirational rock, and a brother. He was the Bert to my Ernie. The carrots to the peas in my life. The Hal Jordan, to my Oliver Queen. And the day he died, changed my life forever.
In retrospect, I have to tip my hat to Jonathan Brandis. He always had a wonderfully unique and almost wryly comical way of looking at things. In reviewing older interviews, he sort-of reminded me of a modern Mark Twain, honestly. Although usually a quiet soul, Jon was smart... unquestionably brilliant, when sparked onto a subject. And he knew how to tell a tale, that could animatedly hook you right into the moment.
Let me now tell you a tale of my own. It is the tale of a man I've never met in person. And this is the story, of how he personally wove his life in a way that touched my own.
Once upon a time, I was born and raised in the state of Connecticut. Nine months before I was even born, Heaven sent the world an angel who was named Jonathan Gregory Brandis, and also sent him to Connecticut on Tuesday, April 13, 1976.
Jon always dreamed of success, and believed in himself as an actor. In the personal yearbook of my life, Jon was always "Most Likely To Succeed". And I was MORE than content with that, honestly. I was more proud of him, than of anyone else I knew. Here was a guy from a little no-name part of Connecticut, who was MY age. And he was doing things, going places... meeting people and working with them, who I always thought of as legends.
I suppose that was partly why, I never met him in person. Among other reasons, anyway. To me, Jon was always this unreachable person, this incredible guy I could relate to and look up to... but never quite touch. It didn't help, that I was battling with myself, and coming to terms with my sexual side.
I suppose it could be truthfully argued, that I showed signs of being either gay or a future host of a PBS cooking show when I was about FIVE. When above everything else in the Universe, all I wanted for Christmas was an Easy-Bake Oven. (Which by the way, I DID get!) In any case, Jon was not just one of the first guys, but honestly THE first guy I laid eyes on when I came into my early teens, and realized to myself on a subconscious level: "Whoa. Where did THIS little guy come from...?" when I got my very first erection. Ah, the joys of Jr. High and puberty. This is just ONE example of a way, that Jon directly affected my own little life.
I was 11, and he was 12 when I became a fan. Actually, it was kind of hard NOT to notice him at the time. As it happened, he was literally everywhere I looked. Starring in the sequel to one of my favorite movies (The Neverending Story II), as well as playing a role on a TV series based off one of my personal favorite subjects: DC Comics. In this case, "The Flash". You see, BOTH came out pretty much at the same time. So when the path of my life lead me pretty much on a crash-course where I had no choice BUT to notice the fact that he existed, I naturally became interested in seeing and hearing more about him. In today's world, kids are USED to having the latest info about a favorite star given to them at a moment's notice. Not so, back in 1988. Which is what made the situation extremely unusual and unforgettable. In a way at the time, it felt like I would have to have been on a different PLANET, in order not to have seen Jonathan in so many different places during such a concentrated period of time. To some people today, such constant unplanned exposure might become... quickly annoying. But it wasn't annoying at all to me at the time. I actually found it funny, especially in retrospect, looking back on a decade when only doctors and drug dealers had pagers, so-called 'portable' phones were a nightmare, the Fox network was taking a pretty big chance on something called "The Simpsons", the term "Domestic Goddess" was a new concept for America, and personal computing and the internet was still this side of science-fiction material. I know it dates me, to recall the late 80's in such vivid detail... but I lived through it. Media saturation was in my case, a new experience for me to live through. As time went on, if I heard some new news about Jonathan, it was like hearing about a favored older brother who had made something of himself. To me, Jon was the epitome of 'cool' in my opinion. Mind you, I'd never in a million YEARS, have been considered cool in school. Matter of fact, while Jon was 'Most Likely To Succeed', I was Most Likely To Get My Ass Wiped By The Jocks. That is, if I ever LET my ass get anywhere near said jocks. My attendance record could show you, how shrewd I was about avoiding THAT scenario. My teachers thought I was a slacker. To be honest, I was more of a survivalist!
In any case, another great example of what made Jon such a special person to me, was the movie "Sidekicks". See, Jon played a kid named Barry, who was... uh... shall we say, even LESS cool than ME if that's possible. And apparently, it is. In any case, through the course of the movie, Barry fantasizes about being pals and having adventures with Chuck Norris. I could understand that. As a matter of fact, I could understand it REALLY well. You see, while Jon may have had ol' Chuck... the ironic joke was, that at that same time when that movie came out, I had Jon.
That was one of MANY little private jokes I had with Jon Brandis, over the course of his life. You could say that they were... pretty corny, but they were still the best damn jokes. And even today looking back, the things I had in common with Jon personally, still make me chuckle.
As time marched inevitably onward, Jon started an advice column called "Let's Get Through It Together". I had to be damn creative, about reading it since reading teen magazines was kind of hard to explain if I'd ever gotten caught at it. Y'know, in hindsight... I have to laugh a little bit at that. I actually felt less social stigmatism at the idea of sneaking an underage look at a nudie magazine as a teenager, compared to the mortification I thought I'd feel if anybody I knew saw me reading 16 or Bop magazines. I guess that's just another example of social commentary right there. This world is saturated in sex. Let's face it, the saying IS true: Sex sells. My social standing would have IMPROVED if I had access to a nudie magazine. But heaven forbid, that any self-respecting red-blooded American teenaged male who DOESN'T want to be called 'faggot' (without a clear understanding that people who name-call other people do so from a stance of ignorance and bigotry that under ANY circumstances, ISN'T right), were to go and buy one of those teen fanzines. Matter of fact, during my closeted phase, I'd actually made a few cynical remarks about a kid I knew who I discovered had owned a poster shrine to Jonathan Taylor Thomas. In a twisted way, I almost envied him his balls to do that. It was a helluva lot braver than I was willing to be at the time.
Lord knows, I'm certainly not anywhere proud of that phase of my life. I don't think anybody tends to think of their teenage years as their most intelligent. But in the black and white that is a text screen, I have to admit it: if it wasn't for Jon Brandis and his advice... I really don't think I could have coped with some of the shit that went on as I got closer to my high school diploma. To him and a few other incredibly wise people... I owe a debt, which I can never truly repay.
I'm equally not proud, of what happened AFTER graduation. Sad to say, without even realizing I was doing it, I ended up settling for second-best. In life, and in romance. I moved out on my own, and two years later made the aquaintance of a handsome-enough guy over the 'net who I came to care for, after a few initially abysmal misadventures in personals dating. We corresponded for awhile, and in part it was thanks to him that I learned how to stop repressing myself, and live a helluva lot more in balance with myself. It was all the more ironic, considering that the relationship ITSELF, was FAR from balanced!
After THAT flop, I had a few further offline dates of a Seinfeldian nature before I was introduced through a friend to a completely respectable young man from England, named Craig. Now, there were quite a few times in my life where I had been unconsciously drawn in particular to guys who bore an uncanny resemblance to Jon. The first notable instance of this was in high school, although I was deeply closeted. (And B.J., if you're out there, I'm still single dude!) Another time, I became completely and utterly enthralled by the music of a boy in my music class whose name WAS Jon, but I never got to know him as well as I'd liked to have. I never thought about it much at the time during my school daze, but when I met Craig through a friend, it finally began to dawn on me on an intellectual level that maybe I liked Jon Brandis perhaps more than I thought I did. At the time, I HAD jokingly remarked to Craig about his uncanny physical resemblance to Jon. Even compared photos of them, to prove my point. Sad to say, from graduation onward, meeting Craig was THE first time I'd really thought about Jon since moving out into my own apartment. And even then, I kept deluding myself into a sort of self-imposed fear. Fear of, "What if I ever wrote Jonathan a letter, what if I never heard back from him?", and so on. It compounded my fear of rejection, when I figured out that I DID find him fascinatingly attractive. And knowing of Jon's prior relationship with Tatyana Ali certainly didn't help the picture any. In any case, my head was filled with a whole bunch of rediculous notions that kept me in self-doubt and constant hesitation. The ironic thing is, that before I moved out on my own I DIDN'T have those doubts about myself. I may have been partially closeted, but at least I was confident in myself and willing to be an outspoken individual. It was after I had started living on my own, that I started... not exactly thinking like myself, in a sense. I stopped living like an individual, as I tried to figure out what it meant to be gay.
Rarer and rarer, were the times where I trusted my own instincts, or did something that I was totally happy about doing. I mean, back in the day, Jon was a major inspiration and source of encouragement for me. I had once been pretty outspoken, even went so far as being on debate teams in school. All of that changed, after graduation. I started withdrawing inside myself, even to the point where I became my own worst critic on what I loved most, which was writing. I even, suffered a very serious writing block for a number of years. And yes, there were VERY rare occasions where I'd break out of the rut I was in and do something totally cool. Like the time I got Backstreet Boy Nick Carter's autograph, a few years ago. So, even though the idea of writing Jon had crossed my mind at the time I had been introduced to Craig and would occasionally pop back in at odd moments... I never sat down to write him.
Deep down, I knew that I should have written him at least ONCE. The simple truth is, I let everyday life kind of... become a full-time job, not that I consider that much of an excuse for suddenly acting as if Jon HADN'T been as big an influence in my life growing up, as he truly was and remains to this day. It was a completely shitty thing to do, and that's MY cross to bear I suppose. Because for all the times that he had been there indirectly for me without him ever knowing that he had been... here I was, knowingly too fucking afraid to ever take the bull by the horns and be there for him like I ought to have been. Especially when it turned out, that he could have used some friendly encouragement pretty badly. Perhaps moreso, than I did when I went through bad times.
I've never personally disliked myself more than on that score, and it's a debt which I can never truly repay in this life. Hell, it wasn't until I learned the broad strokes of what had happened to him, that the floodgates opened up and I REALIZED and was able to voice outside my own head just how much Jon Brandis really meant to me while he was alive. How much, that I honestly appreciated what an amazing human being he was. After everything had sunk in... well, I felt as if I'd personally made it all the easier for him to have done what he did... all because I had paralyzed myself with cowardly, neglectful fear. I never took the first step and trusted my first instinct, which was to SAY SOMETHING to him while I had countless opportunities to.
Have you ever watched "Lizzie McGuire"? Well, the interior mental monologues I've had with myself over the years... especially regarding Jonathan Brandis... were a lot like that little cartoon Lizzie. Comical to anyone if they'd ever happened to overhear it... but damned distracting at times, for me to have to listen to that inner me. Actually, the inner me reminds me frighteningly of Lucy from the Charlie Brown cartoons. "You BLOCKHEAD!!!" Meanwhile, the outer me often felt like Charlie Brown himself. "Good grief." Big surprise, that I eventually started tuning it OUT. As for Jon... well, he sort of fell in the category of that Red-Headed girl that old Charlie Brown had a fondness for, that he never really... had the greatest of luck in asking out.
Again, the only explaination FOR the decisions I made, is that I just... settled. Settled into my own fears and insecurities. Told myself that I could handle things better on my own, that I was a big boy now with my own life, my own apartment. That he was better off, without knowing what a difference he'd made in MY life. That I was better off for that matter, for having saved myself the trouble of getting involved. When deep down, I knew I was only lying to myself. I made out a somewhat safely predictable routine of life for myself, which although never dull in itself, kept me completely distracted with trivial shit that REALLY wasn't worth my time rather than face that formerly fiery part of myself that would have given myself HELL if my younger self from high school had ever met me in 2003. As a result, I never pushed the envelope like I used to once upon a time. The way Jon used to inspire me to at least try to do. And for that, I am truly sorry.
In short, I was sliding deeper and deeper into a pit of mediocrity and underperformance, which in hindsight was a royal and colossal waste of a few YEARS. At least, from a productive standpoint. I became poor, lonely, and seriously depressed whenever I'd look at my checkbook. All because I settled for what I could survive with, instead of looking to what I could truly be a success at if I tried. Arguably, I could point a finger or two at society in general, and observe that I ain't the only one to swim in that muck. But that's another social rant for another day. While I honestly wouldn't change the lessons OR the wisdom that I gained FROM that little *hum-hum*, six year detour in my life... at the same time, I do wish I'd learned them faster, from a different path. It's entirely within the realm of possibility that if I'd figured MYSELF out a little faster, I could have easily said two words to Jon, and maybe this entire fiasco might have been averted entirely.
In any case, Craig didn't last long... unfortunately, I discovered that long-distance relationships NEVER work out well. At least for me, anyway. Mr. Wonderful, my first long-distance ex, kept drifting in and out of my life after that... and then I wound up wearing so many hats, that I had a hard time recognizing which one was mine anymore. I also discovered, I had one hell of an Achilles Heel.
It seemed as if I had a weakness for being a gay Luke Spencer. Introduce me to an attractive, young blond with a world of problems... and watch me try to stick my neck out to help. Often, to my own detriment. As my friend Christine cynically observed: "That bleeding heart of yours, is gonna get you KILLED one of these days...!" To which I always respond, "Maybe... but not today."
And so things continued in this way, over the course of the next few years. Looking back on it, it amazes me that I put up with what I did on a daily basis. A daily grind of the same... nothingness, that I can't say was completely horrible in of itself... but on the other hand, wasn't anything impressive to be proud of either. Unfortunately enough, the worst was about to come. 2003 was NOT a good year. For neither Jonathan OR myself, much as it pains me to say it. In fact, it was a complete train wreck, to put not too fine a point on things. Not only did that aforementioned Achilles Heel of mine come back to bite ME in the ass when I stumbled onto something particularly nasty... but my life, and my heart shifted forever in a whirlwind of change, and it would be a little over a full year afterward before I could fully process it all. And the changes, haven't completely stopped either. Among other things... a real great example of that is, not ONLY did I nearly commit social suicide by sticking my neck out where it didn't belong (and basically getting into a pickle which could have been avoided entirely with some better forethought, where I was forced into being 'outed' publically offline in one of the most mean-spirited ways humanly possible)... but right during the worst of the crap on MY personal plate, it turned out that Jon apparently committed physical suicide. ALSO by sticking HIS neck exactly where it didn't belong, as if the irony wasn't thick enough to choke a damn T-Rex. In this case, his handsome neck found it's way through the noose of a nylon rope. As I said before... Jon was always "Most Likely To Succeed". Therefore, when Jon Brandis put his mind to something, it really isn't all THAT surprising, in spite of the situation, that he'd accomplish whatever he set out to do. I guess even in death, Jon and I remained closely knit to similarities in our lives. And for once, I wish that wasn't true. We may have found different ways to DO it... but we BOTH individually were successful in screwing our OWN lives over rather unpleasantly that year. And managed to hurt everyone who EVER cared about us, in the process. God knows, things certainly could have gone a whole lot better than they did. I know I sure ain't proud of that accomplishment on my end, and the Jon Brandis I remember, wouldn't be proud of it on his end, either.
On a personal note, before I continue about Jon: Coming out, being honest about my own sexuality, was never something I was ashamed of. However, on the other hand I never cared to trumpet to the heavens my attraction to men in the first place. And with good reason, as far as I'm concerned. As Donald Trump is wont to put it: "What goes on in the bedroom, ought to stay in the bedroom." On that, I agree with The Donald. To be completely candid, I often find it awkward to be myself and enjoy the company of some straight men simply because of many instances where they'd objectify women, or belittle or mock MY interest in guys (or WORSE, though I've never been that unlucky, thank God). Granted, I'm guilty of mentally undressing a hot surfer on summer vacations to the beach... even making a few dry, cynical, Brian Kinney-type jokes every now and then in the company of friends about some cute guy who'd caught my fancy. But what always made me reticent about being out as a gay man, was the oftentimes over-the-top ego strength of some straight men I've had the misfortune of encountering over the years. Not that I was intimidated by the macho crap, I simply gave it the same expression and reaction that I would to walking down a sidewalk and stepping in dog doo. See, I can understand and even appreciate that THEY appreciate the female form in that way. Even though I don't. But it's a little awkward for me when I get "Now there's a nice peice of ass, don't you agree?". In other words, there's nothing wrong with appreciating whatever turns you on... but it's when some people naturally assume I'd agree with their overly-macho objectifying posturing and then expect me to do the same. That's, where I come into a problem. I don't feel that's right, or fair. I also find it, in extreme poor taste.
A really great recent example of that (bear with me, there's a point to this anecdote), is when I went on a roller-skating trip not too long ago. Some speed-demon came up behind me and knocked me off-balance, so I careened wildly out of control into a couple of young women to my right. I knew I was going to fall down, so I closed my eyes and murmered a fervent prayer that I wouldn't kill me OR them as I went down. On the way down however, I heard an alarmingly loud RRRIIPPPP sound. I opened my eyes to a sore ass, and my hand clutching a handful of one of the unfortunate ladies' sweater blouses. Poor girl nearly wound up topless! Not exactly something that would have been wholesome viewing anyway, considering it was a Christian family skate night. The point of this is, when I gingerly made my way to the nearest wall to collect my wits from the collision, a reasonably-handsome guy who hadn't seen the details asked me what had just happened so I told him. His response was: "I'll bet you enjoyed THAT, didn't you?" (referring to the poor girl's near-exposure.) If I wasn't so self-preservationist (and trying to regain my equilibrium on those skates!), I would have acted on the impulse where I wanted to slug him! Here was some total stranger, who didn't know me at ALL, projecting HIS view on me and expecting me to agree with him! And what's more, having ZERO sympathy for either my own well-being, or that of the girl in question. Stuff like that, bothers the hell outta me. Unfortunately, the world seems to be FILLED with people who act like posturing, oversexed, boorish pig-headed jackasses who give not only GUYS, but the entire human species a pretty bad rep. This is exactly why, I was fine with being out online, and through my writing... but hated to have people offline know I was gay. My way of trying to avoid the verbal dog doo.
In a way, personal examples like this REALLY helps me understand why Jon was always so... low-key, about his personal life. I get that. I can only imagine the sorts of people Jon had run across over the years. The ever-popular press, for one thing. Especially the damned paparazzi, who are a menace! You're often put in a situation or position in life where there isn't anything really to hide... you even try and do the best you can, to help your fellow man... but well, the simple fact is that people are people no matter who you are, what you do for a living, or what you think or believe in life. And sometimes if there isn't anything constructive that can be said to the situation without it being bent one way or another by somebody else, it's better to just let people think what they will and keep your own counsel unless people REALLY WANT to know what you think, even if it's something different from what they think or believe. Mind you, speaking out isn't a bad thing. In fact, I encourage people to speak out. But only with good reason. It's one thing if you're in a position, where you have a positive reason to speak out. It's quite another, to just be like a volcano and spew stuff all over the place. If you're like a volcano, you'll cause more damage than anything else.
Jon had his own way of being low-key about HIS life... meanwhile, I had my OWN way of being low-key. Ironically, it was by being out loud and in public where everyone could hear me. You see, I was more from the Roseanne Barr school of Diplomatic Relations. But it was mostly smoke and mirrors. I'd make a lot of noise, but it would only be a distraction to keep my personal life hidden in plain sight. Before everything changed in my life, I went through a time where I feared not knowing how to handle situations like the one I just mentioned before I was publically outed. And in not knowing how to deal, I sometimes used to react to things sort of like a verbal volcano. What's more, although I was outspoken in a less than constructive way, I let people think and do what they wanted, even when it would personally hurt ME because I feared what my own decisions would do, to others. Let's just say, I lived with a LOT of fears and self-doubts, over the years. Since Jon died however, and my own life got a significant overhaul to boot... well, although I may still bite my tongue from time to time, at least I don't hold back as much as I used to, when it comes to dealing with things that bother me. I don't take it on the chin and leave myself open to being dumped on anymore. I'm not afraid to walk away anymore. What used to scare me... doesn't scare me so much anymore, after having faced my worst fears already. I have since come to respect the right to freedom of speech. On the other hand, I try to temper my own two cents by respecting other people's right to freedom of speech, too.
I keep saying, that everything changed in my life... and you're probably wondering HOW. How one person, could make a difference in my life to such an extensive degree. Well, I'll tell you, and the answer may surprise you in it's simplicity. What changed, was Jon. When he died, the possibility of him ever being someone I'd just walk up and and say 'Hi, there' to was forever taken away. And there's no way that I know of, where I could ever get that part of my life, back. Thus, my life has been completely changed by what happened to him.
Now the interesting thing is, next to the fear of him NOT responding to me if I had written him... one of my absolute worst fears that I'd ever had in my entire life which started back, oh, I think nearing my senior year of high school, was actually the idea of losing him. Of Jon dying, before I ever had a chance to... thank him, get to know him, or at least let him know I even existed. When I moved out and got hooked up to the internet I would see pictures of Jon, and get this very awkward feeling like... somebody walking over my grave or something and it bugged me. A LOT. And sure enough, I had to face my own personal worst fear I'd ever had in my nastiest NIGHTMARES when I was younger, in reality as a grown man. In a way, the nightmares I had back in high school had actually become prophetic. That was actually part of the reason why I never wrote him, why I kept trying to push him outta my mind after I graduated. Because there was a time in my life, where I DID have dreams like that and just kept it to myself until now. Like I said before: when you don't have anything constructive to say... well, I didn't know what to say or how to say it if I could have said anything about it then. Hell, I guess I didn't WANT to admit it to myself, that I'd once had the dreams. When I was forced into living through it all wide awake... well, the irony was that I began to welcome sleep for a change. Because although the possibility of ever telling him in person was now ripped away forever... at least while I was asleep, I could at least still see him there. I know, not exactly how I'D ever imagined things turning out... but you take what you can get, in life. The best time of the day for me, became that moment in between waking up in the morning, and the moment when I'd consciously be reminded that he was gone. Because in that brief time... everything still feels the way it always used to, before he died. It still is my favorite time of the day, even now. It's the way I feel about EVERYONE I've ever cared about, who's died.
I hated those dreams, back in high school. Where he was suddenly... gone, in much the way he is now. I don't really remember specific details of the dreams I had then... it was all distorted and just... creepy. But I do remember waking up and wishing I DIDN'T hate the taste of alcohol, whenever I used to get those dreams back then. Because if anything could have used a drink, those dreams would have been it. They were... the kind of freaky stuff that were on a par with this... reality-fucked dream I once had while under anasthesia during an eye surgery when I was a kid. Uber-vivid at the time, but there just aren't words in ANY language I know, that can describe it completely. The only thing that sticks with you, is the feelings. Kind of reminds me of what it must be like to have a bad LSD trip. I've never done drugs, but I used to know somebody who DID have a bad trip once. And what he described of it, sounds about like the dreams I had about Jon several years ago. Years later when things happened in 2003... well, for the longest time I had this weird unreality feeling like I was trapped in one of my old nightmares... and the punchline was that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't fucking WAKE UP from it this time! You see, after high school had gotten over and done with I thought the whole thing with the dreams, the stuff when I was in school where I felt about Jon the way Barry did about Chuck... well, I tried to dismiss it all as bonko wacko NUTS in the cold hard light of making ends meet out in the world, since at that time he was... otherwise involved with somebody else, and I was so busy fighting the social pressures in my own head that were going on about my being gay, that I really just didn't know HOW to make sense of it all. I even, for the most part... completely tuned out what I dreamed at night, with a few notable exceptions. So I just... 'borrowed' a page from Scarlett O'Hara, not knowing what ELSE to do with it. Said to myself every time, "I'll think about it tomorrow". Well, looks like Jon plain ran OUT of tomorrows. Fiddle-dee-dee.
When I think about Jon today, I'm reminded of one of my favorite tunes from when I was a kid. "Puff, The Magic Dragon". It's actually a kind of sad song when you think about it. It talks about love, loyalty, and loss. Talks about this kid Jackie Paper, and his friend Puff. But one day, Jackie left Puff all alone, while Jackie went to grow up. And a grief-stricken Puff, without his friend Jackie, couldn't find it in himself to be brave anymore. Poor Puff lost his only known reason TO be brave, when Jackie left. When Jon died, I kind of felt the same way Puff did. I didn't set foot out of my house for two solid weeks after I got word of what had happened. In fact... it was only because of Thanksgiving, that I finally had no choice but to go out of the house. And lemmie tell you: it was a HORRIBLE way to spend THAT holiday. The news about Jon's death actually had left me physically ill. I'd heard stories about how people 'died of a broken heart'... but I never before that point, believed such a notion was possible. There just wasn't a scientific rationale for it. Well, it was one of the few times in my life, where I was actually proven wrong about something. Because I couldn't imagine death being much worse than how I was feeling at THAT point in my life. I honestly didn't feel thankful about ANYTHING, at that time. My own life felt like it was going down the tubes socially... and even above my OWN crap, I truly wished the earth would swallow me up completely after what had happened to Jonathan. But then, I realized something. Or perhaps it's more accurate to say that I remembered something. Something important, too. Here it was, a year where my worst fears had come to life... a combined nightmare right out of Hell, and yet I was still standing. Jon was gone, but I was still around. And like Puff... being brave, didn't come from Jackie... or Jon, for that matter. It came from inside ME. It was always there, right from the start. And I was truly surprised, just how strong I really was when push came to shove and I had no CHOICE but to get back on my feet again. And fight back, to keep my own head above water.
I don't mind saying though, that I have yet to go a day without wishing Jon had survived that horrible year, instead of me. Lord knows, more people have cared about him, than who ever did about ME. But then again, he was in a position where more people knew who he was, so I guess that's a factor. In a way though, I partially owe him my life today, because of what happened. Between my own problems, and then what happened to Jon... I was FORCED into facing my worst fears. I was forced into living through them. And in facing them, I overcame them. I read something somewhere, that says that when your worst fear happens in front of your eyes, that there's nothing left to be afraid of after it happens. I found out from personal experience, just how true that statement could be. My only regret, is that re-discovering my own inner strength came at such a high price.
That Night, as everyone today now calls it, fell on Tuesday, November 11th, 2003. What I know of it in the way of cold hard fact, is sketchy at best. He had been in contact or in the company of, some friends approximately at quarter past 11 PM, PST. He wound up alone for approximately 15 minutes before he was discovered hanging unconscious in his apartment, by friends or a friend, this point is unclear. There was no suicide note.
In taking some time to study first aid facts from the Red Cross awhile back, I learned a few things. For starters, the brain's cells are the most sensitive to lack of oxygen, out of all the cells in the human body. On TV, the warrior princess Xena used to do this nerve pinch and it was supposed to kill someone in 30 seconds from cutting off the flow of blood to the brain. I've learned something else, however: it actually takes longer than that, to die. Four minutes, of lack of oxygen to the brain and you suffer permanent and irreversable brain damage. Who knows, how long out of that 15 minute window it was before his neck went into that damn noose. I suppose that knowledge is academic at best. What really matters is, it was long enough no matter how long it was. Because Jonathan Gregory Brandis died at about 2:30 the following afternoon from the lack of oxygen to his brain.
In retrospect, I have to wonder a little bit, at Jon's timing. I mean, as I mentioned before, he was born on a Tuesday. Twenty-seven years later, he's found hanging from a rope, ALSO on a Tuesday. I doubly have to wonder at the timing, considering that like me, he was a fan of "Back To The Future". Considering that he died the following afternoon on November 12, I have to wonder if he picked that date abstractly, arbitrarily, or if there was some personal meaning to that. Who knows? Way I see it, life is all about cause and effect. There's a reason behind everything, even if those reasons are fleetingly known only at the time.
You would think that after his death, that this would be the end of the story. But like Mary Alice Young on "Desperate Housewives", life has it's own peculiar way of going on, and so does Jon's influence in my life. It recently came to my attention that a curious message was posted online. I do not know from whence it came, but it is claimed to be a message from Jon from beyond the grave. I cannot confirm or deny it's authenticity, yet still I felt that the message was worth addressing. If that message is on the level, then it may explain a few things.
As I'd said before, Jon had dreams of being a success, and most of the time, believed in himself as an actor. The optimism, hope, and pure compassion for his fellow man that was part of his nature poured off him in waves everywhere he went and I have to admit... Jon always made one hell of an impression, to anyone who ever encountered him. It isn't hard to picture Jon as perhaps something of a self-perfectionist though, and he had even admitted on several occasions that he always had a million things buzzing in his head all at once. He was always... a strong believer, in doing things right. He used to refer to his mind as being like Grand Central Station, with all the activity up there. Kind of made me wonder over the years if he was an undiagnosed case of some sort of attention deficit. (Not that that's a bad thing at ALL, as I can actually relate to THAT, if you can believe it!) In any case, he set goals for himself even from an early age, and always found new levels to reach up to in anything he did.
Not to be mis-understood here, I must stress that there are many different kinds, of self-perfectionism. I'm sure there are the Bree Van De Camps out there... in anything in the world, there's always extremes. But there's other kinds out there, too. To paraphrase my grandmother, there's about as many ways to be anal about a task, as there are people in the world to be anal. Now me... I'm my own worst critic, when I sit down to write. In my case, that's a genetic curse. When a family pet died, my mother got the brilliant idea to try and host a memorial thing. Influenced in part by her own idol, Martha Stewart, Mom talked me into designing little invitational cards with the picture of the cat on the front. What started out originally as a 20 second layout job, wound up instead becoming a two-hour fiasco whereupon the cat was lucky to be the ONLY one being placed in the ground! Incidentally, the finished invitations turned out spectacular.
I firmly believe however, that Jon's idea of self-perfection closely mirrored my own that I struggle with daily. Mainly because, being a writer and creative type of person myself, I tend to be friendly with other writers and creative types. And this particular complaint comes up in conversation a LOT when talking about the work we do. Case in point, writing this essay. I now have to multiply my deadline times by a factor of three, when I write. Because every time I write, I think that I'm done... then I start proof-reading. And before I know it, entirely fresh paragraphs just pop up out of nowhere in my head, and I'm back at square one trying to figure out where to fit them in. During one such editorial pass, I became really annoyed at the whole project. So I tossed my glasses down on the desk and started rubbing my nose in frustration. Now, before Jon died I tended to believe that the dead can hear the living. So I talk to Jonathan from time to time even though a few people reading this probably might not be of a mindset where they'd expect me to get any response. So I grunted and said, "Sheesh! Talk about your damned Neverending stories! I've got one right here!" Almost immediately, I heard a deep, rich voice chuckling. There was nobody there of course, that I could see. But I'd recognize that voice anywhere. It was him. I paused, listened to the laughter that seemed to come out of nowhere, realized that what I had just said WAS kinda funny, and laughed too.
Looking back now, I think that it's very possible that Jon might have begun to doubt himself again, as he got older. There was a point in his life several years before, where he'd had a rough patch career-wise. But that first time, he'd gotten through it ok. This time however, something was different and he didn't make it back. According to that message that was posted on the internet, it's claimed that he had 'spent a great deal of time inside myself, as if in my own world, screened off from everything else'. If that's true, than his feeling an emptiness, feeling like 'a failure-capital-F' out in public even when the opposite was the truth isn't entirely a surprise from where I'm sitting. And although it's not surprising in itself, at the same time it's a personal regret for me, if true. It's a regret of mine, because I can actually sympathize, on that. In a different way, but the same effect.
Peer pressure, the pressure to succeed... to conform to not only society's norms or expectations, but also your own. Thanks to what's happened, I've now actually lived longer on this Earth than Jon has. And I've been there, done that, and bought the tee-shirt. And being reminded of where you fall short in other people's eyes... hell, I get that even today. In a way, it never really stops. In my case, the whole issue over my being gay was a biggie for me. And I know exactly what it's like, to feel that empty. The difference is, I never let it consume me. Came close on a couple damn occasions... but don't we all, at one point or another?
I saw the previews for Star Wars: Episode III not long ago. And just the previews, proves my point about peer pressure and the power of fear. The fears of the Jedi Council, and the high expectations that EVERYONE had for Anakin, pushed Anakin over the edge to the Dark Side. When Obi-Wan said to Anakin, "You were supposed to be the chosen one!", the expression on Anakin's face kind of said to me, "Oh, yeah? Chosen by whom? 'Cause buster, it certainly wasn't by ME!" Nobody was willing to let Anakin choose for himself what HE wanted. The Jedi had all those blasted rules... and all then-Chancellor Palpatine had to do, was just play it to the hilt and use the entire mess completely to his own advantage. Helping things along wherever he could, by playing up to Anakin's own fears and insecurities. He used Anakin for his potential. Which, he had plenty of. As for the Jedi Council, it's their fault from start to finish. They literally authored their own destruction, and did Palpatine's work FOR him. Thanks to fear (theirs' and Anakin's), Anakin was blindly lead down a path that destroyed his own life and allowed him to become that.... walking iron lung, known as Darth Vader. I don't have to watch the new movie, though I probably will anyway. The previews alone told me more in the span of a minute and a half, than what I learned in Episodes 4-6 COMBINED. It now makes perfect sense to me, that Old Ben Kenobi later gave Luke... shall we say... a somewhat edited account of Vader's origins. If I'd personally been a party to botching things up THAT royally, and literally GIVING Darth Vader his very face and mission in life... I wouldn't be entirely comfortable admitting to it, EITHER. Quite simply put, when you give into fear, fear leads to anger and frustration. Anger and frustration leads to violence. And violence only leads to more fear. That's what happens, when you let your fears consume you. And unfortunately, I suspect that this self-perpetuating cycle is exactly what ended Jon's life. (Little ironic side-note: I understand that Jon actually auditioned for the role of Anakin Skywalker! Something tells me, he would have really understood the role....)
As for myself, I've been a complete contradiction in terms, in some ways. And yet somehow, it all fits together and I can understand some things better than I should. Knowledge, doesn't always equal understanding. And understanding, can come even before you know it's there. As smart as I might be, there's just some things that can go beyond simple logic. Jon, is one of those people I feel as if I can understand, to a degree. Even when my own life, is completely different. For example, I prefer living alone, but I also prefer the company of friends and family whenever possible. I make cynical jokes under pressure, but yet even at my satirical best... I still carry a grain of ironic optimism in my punchlines. I constantly gripe and grumble when technology fails me (often!), and yet I'm like a kid in a candy store when a new gadget gets invented. But it all fits together. Look at how incidents in my own life, have helped me to resonate and feel completely connected to a man I've never personally met. Logic can't explain it, nor can the scientific method. But yet it's there. And when Jon died, I felt as if I'd lost my own brother. I'd say that as far as society goes for expectations or sense of normalcy... I've gone well beyond THAT, at any rate. And y'know what? I wouldn't have it any other way.
In looking back on my own dark times, what always kept me strong during the hard times were a few really oddball close friends (and some family members too) who stayed in my life through thick and thin. That, and my own sparklingly dry and caustic wit under pressure. I guess it kinda helped for me, surrounding myself with people who ALSO were not exactly mainstream thinkers EITHER. I indirectly built up a sort of support system there, which kept me from going off the deep end when confronted by peer pressure and social expectations. Both my own expectations, and other people's. But even with all of that going for ME, I still learned the very hard lesson that it's never easy no matter WHAT, when it comes to knowing who to trust, or how much TO trust people with. The quote from a song comes to mind, "Only a friend can betray a friend, a stranger has nothing to gain". (Michael W. Smith, "Why".) As a result... especially when you've got a heck of a lot rattling about inside your own head... you tend to keep things close to the vest as much as possible. While at the same time, you try and seek out someone to share that mind-boggling load with. I can only surmise, that this was the reason why Jon preferred talking to fans late at night on the telephone, and as a result left his phone number and address listed. He didn't know who he was looking for, but I get the impression that he kept the 'candle burning in the window', so that someone could come to him. Oddly enough, I can understand this because I did a similar thing myself, once upon a time. Had my name and number listed in the phone book, I mean. It worked for me, about as well as it did for him, sad to say. I never did find that one special person, that I could trust with ALL of it. I did however, find myself swamped with telemarketer and crank calls....!
Right there, that's the difference. I had a successful support system, I may have had times like that too... dark times where no matter what you did it felt hollow. Both in victory, and defeat. And I've had encounters, where people who AREN'T privy to an inside track go about their own lives, and in comparing myself to them it would sometimes make me feel as if I fell short somehow when I saw how some people got further in life than I would, with the same tools at hand. In a way, it's enough to make you envious, if you don't know the full story. If you go at it from your experience, and forget that you're you and other people are other people. And as Mark Twain used to say, 'What saves my life, might assassinate your own!' I get that probably better than I OUGHT to, honestly. But I also had a means to let off steam and safely vent thanks to my friends. To learn from experience, that everyone is meant to live their own lives in their own ways. I had a means, to feel comfortable in the company of people who could understand my line of thinking about life irregardless of 'mainstream' thinking. And who wouldn't judge it, or me by it.
Having opportunities like that, is exactly what taught me everything I know now. But I get the impression both from that message and from what sparce facts that I know of his last days, that he didn't have that in his life up near the end. Oh, sure. He had friends... although a low-key kind of guy, Jon was always one to make friends easily enough. But they weren't the kind who really 'got' his kind of thinking right off the bat. If they did (and no, I am NOT bashing them by saying this, only stating honest truth from experience), they would have been able to recognize a cry for help when they first heard it. According to them, Jon made some (what to me would be) mildly disturbing jokes about dying, drank heavily near the end, and I've been told that he visited his folks about 2 weeks before his death. And when he did visit with them, they seemed to sense something was wrong, but they couldn't draw out the problem from his lips. Mind you, the parts about his heavy drinking and the death jokes would have alarmed ME right at the starting gate. To my way of thinking, moderation is one thing. But when I come from a background where I have a family history of having too much of MANY different things to a point where it becomes a problem, it kind of makes me naturally alert to those kinds of issues. I've learned from bitter experience, the truth in the adage that too much of ANYTHING can easily become a very BAD thing indeed.
Here's a good moral question to throw out there though... how much is too much, and how does one go about saying something about it? That's a question that I've asked myself many times, even when I've seen some pretty nasty extremes in my day. And I never seem to find a good answer to that. In some ways, morality bites. Worst case scenario: Even in spite of whatever good intentions you might have... you know what they say the road to hell is paved with. The other person might not be so inclined to agree with you. Your mind might be screaming, "Somebody call the Betty Ford clinic!", but if you tried, the other person might put up one royal stink! And in the end, that would be worse than the original problem because if you shove somebody into a situation like that, they might not be in ANY mood to accept the help being offered. And it would only re-inforce the self-destructive feelings already going on.
Granted, I'm not exactly expecting anybody to be Karnak the Great... to be able to know instinctively that somebody has a problem... or what the problem is. But even when people won't say something right out, they DO talk in other ways. It's up to us, to try and listen. And we often hear the best, when it resonates in our own heart. In other words, it takes one to know one. I'm simply not entirely convinced, that the friends Jon had been keeping at the time had been in a place where they could resonate with where HIS head was at. I could be mistaken, but it seems to me that it simply comes down to a lack of communication that isn't anybody's fault. Jon didn't know how to tell anyone what was bothering him, and nobody immediately understood the other, more subtle means of communication that we all share, when words aren't enough. Body language, behavior, and the like. And of course, there's that whole trust issue, that I mentioned earlier. Jon may have come close on a few notable occasions, but I think it's safe to observe that he probably hadn't found one special person, to trust with all of it either. How many of us are lucky enough to find THAT, eh? You'd think, on a planet of billions of people... that it'd be easy. Unfortunately, it isn't. You find yourself often... seperated. By space... by cultures... and sometimes, by time itself. And the choices, we all make in our lives.
My best guess, and it's only a guess based on what I know of what happened, and what I have lived through myself during my own self-doubting times... is this. When he went through his first dark time of self-doubt... he got through it enough at the time but it wasn't a complete fix to the problem. It may have gone dormant for a time with an upswing in jobs... but I don't think his fears ever went completely away. I honestly think he did the same thing I did. Pushed it off, and by and large ignored it's existance because things were feeling better than they were earlier and he didn't know what else to DO with it. It became the pink elephant in the room. You know it's there, but you just don't talk about it. You don't deal with it, and it eventially fades into the background. You're living your life, you've got More Important Things To Do. It's only years later, when something comes along that sets it all off again like an emotional landmine. And having been in a false sense of security for so long, he had no ready defenses against his own fears and doubts when it started to haunt him again. And this time, I don't think he had the same amount of optimism he once had, about life.
I don't know what in particular was going on those days that could have set him off, since by all accounts he was doing pretty well for himself when he died. It probably just built up, like a clog in your sink. But the results are pretty obvious. I KNOW fear and self-doubt. I know it better than I ought to, and God help me, I wish I didn't know what I do about it. Fear is like a living thing, sometimes. It's like a disease, which can be contageous and deadly if left untreated. Like a cancer or a parasite, fear can creep into your heart in small doses. But each time, it adds up. It's like the story I once heard of what can happen to a frog in a frying pan. Drop a frog into a hot pan of water, and he'll jump out instantly. But if you put a frog in a cool pan of water and slowly turn up the heat, the frog will stay in the pan until he's dead and cooking. Fear and self-doubt can only harm you when you are unaware of it's presence, when you ignore it's there, or when you just can't talk about it. And it only gets nastier, the longer you don't deal with it. It's just a wild guess, but I'd be very surprised if it wasn't a little of all three things, with Jon. He might have ignored some things after he got past the original dark times, didn't know things were still brewing there... and then later without a means to address what was bothering him, I'd bet a year's price of web hosting that something happened that woke up that fearful and doubting part of himself that everyone thought had been beaten years ago. Maybe... he did what he did, to try and silence all the stuff rattling around in his head. It might have gotten too noisy up there, to cope with it alone. Especially if it was all negative, the stuff he was thinking about. That... thing inside him, the fear and doubt slowly consumed him peice by peice, and then tricked & manipulated him into thinking that what he was doing was the right thing at the moment when in reality, he was in serious trouble. The real irony, when you doubt yourself... is that you don't question your ideas in the moment. And paradoxically, that's exactly what you SHOULD be doing in times like that. Take a moment to stop and ask yourself what the hell you're doing, before you do something you'll regret. Or before other people regret it too.
There but for the grace of God. Y'know, it really is a sobering thought, to consider that if Jon might have had the kind of luck I've had... the kind of support I've had... the means to voice what was going on in his head, he might still be around right now. Not sure I'm entirely cozy with the idea, either. If I could trade every ounce of my luck in exchange for his life however, I would. No question about it, even if I'd never known him from Adam and I'd been offered a chance to help. Everyone deserves that much, out of life. "The greatest love a man can have, is the kind where he is willing to give up his life all for the sake of a friend". (John 15:13) By that standard... then yes. I loved Jonathan with all my heart. And I always will.
The bottom line is, that Jonathan Brandis left behind a legacy filled with questions. Questions, that I'm not sure anybody alive today can truly answer, at least on the score of what was goin' on in HIS head when everything went to crap. We can guess, we can empathize... but that's about it, these days.
A few paragraphs back, I commented on the possibility that if I had possessed an opportunity to have opened up a dialogue with Jon, that perhaps the events in 2003 could have been potentially averted. Let me throw a little temporal theory in here while I'm thinking of it, to explain my line of thought. (Those of you who HAVE seen "The Butterfly Effect", would understand this completely... those who haven't, SHOULD rent it!) Now, part of what made my first big long-distance relationship so dysfunctional, was the fact that Mr. Wonderful... was as a matter of fact, someone who entertained thoughts about suicide. Frequently, as it happened. Although the guy was a royal liar and a repetitive cheater during the time I invested my heart into him, and SEVERAL friends concurred that he didn't deserve me... in my case, I NEVER took suicidal talk like that lightly. I didn't dare take the chance that he COULD have been just seeking attention. And I guess that's something Jon taught me years ago, when his advice kept ME grounded when things were going haywire. When you really care about someone, you just don't ignore that little warning bell that goes off in your head. I guess you could say, I was always naturally sensitive to that subject. Therefore, if I had been a bit more observant, and been in a position where I could have gotten wind of the 'jokes' Jon's friends later claimed he had been making a few weeks prior to That Night, I know my own instincts well enough to say that it would be highly unlikely that I'd just brush it off as 'harmless'.
For starters, I KNOW how tough the entertainment business is. Hell, anything involving the public eye can be tough. It can be cut-throat, brutal, it can chew you up and spit you out, and rape you of your entire sense of self-worth if you let it. (Please note: I said CAN, not that it automatically would.) As kind and amazing a soul that Jon might be... even HE is not immortal, nor would he be immune to the 'slings and arrows' of this... work, he chose for himself. Especially when for the most part, you go it all on your own and keep things close to the vest. The people who make a success with it, EARN every penny of their damn money. I suppose, that's why these days I'm an activist for subjects like HIV/AIDS, cancer, suicide prevention, gay rights, stem-cell research, and many other things.
I've made my share of mistakes in life, and by now I just plain don't CARE about what people think anymore. At least where mainstream thinking goes. In some ways, I'm pretty much immune to the court of public opinion by now. What I mean is, the things people say won't KILL me, but it can still hurt me. Lord help me, I feel as if I've aged 20 years in the last ONE year and some odd months. What matters to me now, is making every remaining moment that's left in this life, hit the mark and make a difference. And that's what I'm trying to do, right now.
Of all the things that I've lived through, all of the mistakes that I've personally made... there's just one thing that I can truly say that I'm damned proud of in this life. My writing. I don't need a uterus, to tell you that writing from the heart is the most labor-intensive thing a human being can go through. It even trumps what a woman can do, in childbirth. A woman goes through nine months of pregnancy, then physical labor pains and pops out a kid that's a little bit her, and a little bit of the guy. It's different though, when you're writing from the heart, writing from the soul. Because you're not just putting together a little peice of immortality with some genetic links to you... if you're successful at writing from the heart, you're immortalizing your very soul, on paper. And you're doing it all on your own. In a way, I'm trying to give Jon a small piece of that kind of immortality, too. I only wish it had been possible for me to give him more than... this. Because whatever else I could say posthumously about him, it could never be truly enough.
In any case, getting back to the what if scenario, "What If I Could Have Made A Difference?". Knowing, what I know now... how much I would move heaven and earth if I could, particularly on Jon's behalf... if I knew that I had only one shot at being a voice of reason on that one crucial night... damn right, I'd have spoken up. But y'see... herein lies the rub: say that my caustic, blunt, bone-honest approach were to get through and slam the brakes on at the last minute. For every cause, there's an equal effect. Say that I COULD have prevented Jon's death. One change by me, would therefore cause changes done by everyone else in the WORLD, as a result. The butterfly effect, you see. A flap of a butterfly's wings... e.g., if I could have made a difference in Jon's life and managed to prevent that nightmare that happened THEN... that might (and I stress MIGHT, not COULD,) cause a typhoon on the other side of the world. In other words, a major difference in life today by comparison. Say, that because Jon would be alive today, people who came CLOSE to suicide and were affected by the loss of Jonathan enough to get help, never knew how close Jon was to death if his life had been spared? Granted, that's a worse-case scenario. I could have gone COMPLETELY Doc Brown on you, and predicted the end of the world because of some possible future person who MIGHT choose to kill themself if Jon was still alive, and that person could be crucial in preventing a nuclear holocaust somewhere down the road. I'm not saying that that's a certainty, nor am I claiming that Jon's death might be the salvation of the damn world, as it stands now. What I AM saying is this: EVERYONE has the power of free will and choice. Each choice we make, is damn important even if we don't think so, or even feel like it is or not. When you make a choice in your life, it NEVER just affects you. It affects everyone else, even in ways you can't see.
People tend to wring their hands and say that it's random, call this 'chaos theory', but it's not as chaotic as you might suppose. It's a misnomer, that name. In reality, it strikes me that what is known as Chaos Theory is really just Subtle Choices in life. One example of chaos theory involves a double pendulum. And when the second joint of the pendulum starts spinning in a different direction, scientists act all surprised and call it a random action. Duh! When you build something with the CAPACITY to do something, even if it's an unlikely scenario in your best guess the chances are that it would do what it's capable of doing since it's designed the way it is. When it does do what it has the capacity to do, people shouldn't be so damn surprised when it does do something unique within it's capacity. It's the root of all human innovation itself. And it is NOT random, or chaotic. It's an effect, rooted in a cause. When you throw a pebble into a pond of water... the pebble only makes a moment's impact and you never see the pebble again. But observe the waves that are made BECAUSE of the pebble's impact. They're sometimes far-reaching and have effects which can be either positive OR negative. Although for the most part they're outside of our realm of exact prediction, they're NOT outside our realm of influence and understanding. Say that a pebble is tossed into the water. The disturbance in the water then causes a course correction in a school of fish. As a result, that school of fish will now go either towards or away from potential dangers they can't see that far down the road. Dangers such as predatory fish or fishermen, in another part of the pond that they wouldn't have encountered in that moment but for that course correction due to the tossing of a pebble from the shore. Now, the dangers those fish will either face or not face, remain a part of their world... as it has always been. This example is just one of the most probable convergences of individual choices, and how each choice affects everyone and everything else around the person making the choice.
You could make any number of infinite choices in your own life, and in the end... as important as they are in how they affect other people, none of them are either good OR bad. Life is like a pond where pebbles are constantly being thrown in, at all different times and different places. The secret is, in making choices YOU can live with. You could do everything right locally, even make out a good life for yourself and people close to you. But as the late Gilda Radner was wont to say: "There's always something". That something, is OTHER people's decisions and behaviors. THEIR actions, and how it affects you. But screw other people's decisions, for a moment. The only person YOU have responsibility for, IS yourself. Never forget that, either.
The point of all of this expositionary (and as usual for me, LONG) writing is simply to drive home this to YOU, dear reader: there are people out there, who may feel even while reading this article, as if they've GOT no choices in the world. Who may feel that emptiness, that hollow feeling... and have no way to safely release it without compounding it and feeling worse inside for trying. When people feel like that, they get desperate. But I'm here to tell you, and I kind of learned this from Jonathan, and from my own life too; Even if you can't see them, there's always a choice. It may be something small, something subtle... but it can have a big impact. And even when you feel you're completely alone in what you're going through, you're not. It's a pretty big world out there, with billions of people in it. We may live lives as different from each other as night and day, like tree branches going off in different directions... but even a branch, is connected to something bigger than itself on it's own. We're all part of the same big tree of life. Everyone, has SOME kind of common ground to one another. We all have a way of connecting to one another. You might not have met someone else who's been there yet, but they're out there. Count on it. And if you're damn lucky, you can get through it together.
Although he may have forgotten his own words of wisdom when he needed reminding of them the most, it still doesn't take away from the fact that Jon was right then, and his advice still rings true today. In addition to what Jon himself once said, I will share this from my own experience: Life, can seem like you're flying blind. There's no rulebook, no handy guide to keep from making mistakes and in a lot of ways there's no right or wrong way of living life. And as long as we are alive, we've gotta keep moving. It's a part of our natural instincts, even when we feel as if we can't. Leonardo da Vinci once wrote in his incomparable notebooks: "The movement of a bird's wings or tail might be slight, even unnoticeable to the naked eye... but it is sufficient movement to keep a bird in the air." So when you feel down, if you're doubting yourself or feeling trapped by your fears... when you feel like you have no other choice... take heart. All it takes is making one small little choice to make it through another day. When you have big things that stare you in the face, especially right now, take little steps to deal with it. You might not rise completely above it, but at least you'll be able to stay in the air through the stormier times in life. And then when you look back on it later, you'll be amazed at how big a difference the little choices in life can make. Although you may not see the impact of little choices when they're right in front of you, you never know how you could indirectly make a difference in somebody else's life, even if you never meet them. Like how Jon touched my life, and continues to even today.
Oh, yeah. By the way. Making that kind of an impact, isn't the hallmark of Failure, in my book.
This semi-biographical/autobiographical essay is dedicated jointly to everyone out there who feels like they've got no choices left in the world, and also in loving memory to Jonathan Gregory Brandis, 1976-2003. Dammit Jon, you are poignantly missed in this life more than you know, by a helluva lot of people. Including me.
Your friend... your brother in Time,
-DLC.
March 14, 2005.