"On the Water" with Jack

A&E’s TV show, Duck Dynasty, has made at least one appearance here on my blog, has quickly become a personal favorite, and I’ve taken to thinking and talking (occasionally) like Si, the loony uncle and Vietnam Veteran.  I’m down with talkin’ like that, Jack!  It’s hard not be in a good mood when one is in Duck Dynasty mode, and speaking like Si always gets the attention of my youngest.  But what she really wants to know is, “Who’s Jack?”

Well, it’s probably nobody I know; but I have realized recently (while thinking about Uncle Si and with an epic road trip in front of me) certain similarities between Numenon and Jack Kerouac’s concept of the “beat” generation, as described in his On the Road.  I never expected this, and I know my Numenon as well as anybody.  The first couple of times I was exposed to On the Road, I was either young, immature and distracted by the party/drug atmosphere of the book, or (most recently), addled by my post-surgery (and legal) pain killers.  So I’ve never been an outwardly enthusiastic fan of the work, but the more one thinks about it…the more that’s seemingly there.

(But first here’s a disclaimer that I haven’t been able to otherwise logically fit into this essay.  I’m not a literature guy, and I’m not really trying to be one.  These thoughts are pretty superficial, and I’ve done only a little background reading to fill in some gaps or confirm my thoughts.  There’s likely not much new here, and I could be plain old wrong with some of my recollections or associations.  I’m mostly interested and amused by some of the connections I’m making.  These have some legitimacy, if only for me; but I’m not claiming that this is a worthwhile treatise or even worth the time it will take to create or read.  But in my life, I’ve never before connected my philosophies with Jack Kerouac, or my fishing with “Great American Literature”, all the while with Duck Dynasty in the background.)

Much like my return (after a lengthy hiatus) to Aldo Leopold’s concept of “numenon”, I’ve remembered some of what Mr. Kerouac offered in On the Road; the youthful spontaneity, the search for meaning and purpose; the (sometimes destructive) passion that drives that search; the conflict between romantic notions and domestic realities; these are all pretty accessible parts of the story.  But I’ve never really appreciated or understood, though, the perceived place in American Literature for this “iconic” work.  I’ve had a difficult time really identifying with any of the characters.  I’m pretty much as straight as an arrow, generally risk averse, very obedient, and as beholden to a predictable day-to-day routine as anybody I know.  But maybe I’m growing up, opening up to new thoughts, and now I’m surprised to find some of the same themes running through On the Road and general “Beat Generation” interests as I find myself contemplating on a daily basis.

The self-named “Beat” generation arose in response to America’s post-war McCarthyism and the expected conformism of the time.  The growing anti-intellectualism of those “in power” and perceived mistrust of those generally responding to the beat of a different drummer probably further fueled the search, by some, for some underlying meaning to our lives and existence.  This meaning was probably outside the popular worldviews of the time; it wasn’t going to present itself to those leading mainstream lives and asking mainstream questions.  Finding “it” probably depended on “What the definition of ‘it’ is”, as well as asking some new questions.

Now were the “beats” worn out, exhausted, and beaten down?  Or were they seeking the “beatific” aspects of life?  I don’t know.  I just know that, at the end of the day, I might feel pretty “beat”; but I’m constantly on the lookout (especially when fishing or outdoors in general) for the beatific. I do know that the sense of beauty and wonder I feel when I hold a fine fish helps ease some of the weariness that tends to accumulate between fishing trips.  And in the meantime, I’ll continue my informal search for “it”, as I contemplate what’s important to me and what makes me who I am.

It’s been over 50 years since On the Road’s publication, but much has either stayed the same or gone full circle.  My state’s legislature is currently creating their own “Lame Duck Dynasty” by pushing partisan advantages to the limit, busily ram-rodding more policies through (without the consequences of facing re-election) in a couple of pre-holiday weeks than they’ve accomplished in years (or even decades.)  These “decisions” will have long-lasting consequences in far-reaching areas; education, taxes, labor relations.  And yet, they’ve been accomplished in a manner scarcely to be believed legal in our democracy; in a time frame in which thought, never mind discussion or deliberation, has been impossible; and which has been deaf to outside voices.  I can feel at least some of Sal and Dean’s frustration and dissatisfaction with the way our society is going, and I can certainly question how I’m supposed to best fit in.

By avoiding the trap of asking “Why?” but rather by examining “How?” are we to lead our lives, I think Numenon has led me to some of the same conclusions as Mr. Kerouac and his contemporaries.  As I’ve written before, I’m simply my kids’ dad, and my wife’s husband.  After that, I’m a son, brother, friend and citizen. After that, I can take care of my work and interests.  Along the way, the beats and I have both adopted philosophies from which that which is not essential has been stripped.  What’s left…is what’s left.  Hopefully it’s productive and beautiful.   But it is certainly your core, your essence, your numenon.

I hope to continue occasional insights while I’m “on the road” in my various travels.    This holiday season, I’ve been able to put much aside, while I concentrate on my family’s activities.  So after an intense end to Marie’s recent athletic season, while simultaneously celebrating her current academic prowess, it was off to New Hampshire and beyond to pick Katie up at college.  From there we started a whirlwind Thanksgiving weekend including family dining at our favorite northern New England restaurants, a drive across the White Mountains (with associated tales from the past), and the holiday itself on Casco Bay.  This reunion brought together the newest family member, the Family Patriarch, and just about everybody in between (within a reasonable geographic radius.)  In the midst of the Fun and Love, we had our first Black Friday Dance Party, and I'm proud to mention that the bass in my selected offering (A Bay Bay) just about brought down the house.

The next morning it was back into the truck for the thousand-mile drive home; but that was okay, because of the sense of peace resulting from simply being together.  We may have had a thousand miles ahead of us; but we also had more than a month of being together in front of us, too.

A thousand miles gave me plenty of time to contemplate the Dance Party; something I can’t imagine having happened on my side of the family.   I love them all, deeply, but we were pretty straight-laced, and the safe harbors of schools, sports, naps and domesticity may have dampened the spark of spontaneity that can result in a multi-generational celebration of dance.  This dance might be the common memory of the holiday for us, and I think collecting these shared, positive experiences might be about as close to true meaning as you can get.  These experiences simply foster love.  Who cares about much else (once all the basics are, thankfully, taken care of?)

So maybe Numenon does have some legitimate beat implications…  As Uncle Si might say, “I’m down with that, Jack!”  Is Uncle Si’s “Jack”, Jack Kerouac? I doubt it.  But maybe.  In the meantime, I can’t wait to get back “On the Water” and to continue sharing some shared, positive, fish-related experiences.

As I wrap up these musings, I realize that an On the Road movie will be released sometime soon.  Maybe I’ll learn something, maybe not.  But I’m willing to give it a try and two preliminary thumbs up; after all, Fargo’s Steve Buscemi makes an appearance.  I’m a fan; I’ll be there to watch.

Now, after I catch my breath and bearings, perhaps I should re-read Hunter Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas for some other ideas, too, regarding who I am and how I’m supposed to live.