A Letter to True Friends and Family
My warmest wishes and a whiskey-flavored kiss to all my true friends and family.
I’ve been contemplating my life over this past year as well as that of a few close loved ones, and 2005 was a rocky ride. There were some major highs and lows as it was a year defined by polarities. My future beyond college is still grossly undetermined, though I just finished the best semester of my academic career. The summer of ’05 culminated in the deaths of a few people that were loved by good friends of mine. Though I wasn’t directly connected to David Poulin or Blake and Jen, I still felt the pain of their loss through the suffering of their friends. It was enough to make me contemplate death for the entire month of September, and instill in me a sense of my own fleeting presence on this earth. I took a more serious approach to my studies, opting to dedicate myself wholeheartedly to academics until my stint as an undergraduate at Berkeley is over. I’ve also realized that the busy drone of academia is not enough to satisfy me, so I began volunteering at a charter school in Oakland in order to better the world and gain experience as a student. I must still keep a warm creative pulse in order to be happy, so I tried to maintain a steady diet of songwriting throughout the year. Even though that gets shoved further and further aside due to the demand of academics, I know now that music is my one true love. At least for this phase of my life, music seems to satisfy my need to extract meaning from the world and give it my own expression.
The year is over, and 2006 will see me as a member of the graduating class of UC Berkeley. Of course both excitement and anxiety surround this achievement, and the transition that it brings. I believe that I will remain in the Bay for as long as I can maintain livelihood there. The place has become a part of me as so many places do, and I am endeared by its many people and eccentricities. The public transit system is one of the best in the world, and I’ve come to gladly rely on it as an alternative to the expense and troubles of owning a car. Not to mention the fact that my beautiful blue Mitsubishi Might Max, my high school graduation gift, died this summer. They told me it was from old age, but I think she was neglected by certain caretakers, who shall go nameless. I miss having her around and just the general convenience of a car (which is always an issue when I come home to San Diego), but I don’t miss the cost of gas, maintenance and insurance. This is quickly snowballing into a plug for public transportation, so I’ll just stop it with the car business. Needless to say, the Bay is great for many reasons, public transit being one of them.
Though I may return to San Diego for a short while after graduation, I probably won’t remain. The cost of living here is too high for a starving artist with an English degree. My love/hate with San Diego is an ongoing saga, but most of what draws me here now is my family. I want to be close to my dad, Aaron, Trevor and mom. I know that sounds sappy, but I love each of them too much to be too far out of reach. My dad has told me that he has regrets about the Marcotte family being so spread out, and longs to be closer to his parents and siblings. This same longing is almost enough to make me come back, but I know there’s not much else waiting for me here. Job prospects look better up north because I’ve already established connections with the schools in Oakland. The cost of living certainly isn’t any more affordable than the Bay. As far as good friends in San Diego, most have scattered. I have a group of true friends up north who are currently living in the same house as me, and most of them plan on remaining in the Bay Area for at least a little while. I want to be there with them, too. At least as long as we can maintain our little surrogate family.
The other possible alternative is moving in with my best friend John, who’s finishing up college in Orem, Utah. Yeah, I know, it’s Utah. It’s a desert sprawl of planned housing, Mormon churches and dry counties. Ouch. But if you drive just a little ways outside of all that, there is some of the most beautiful desert country you’ll ever see. I’d love to be so close to the high desert. John has also managed to tap into the burgeoning hardcore music scene that revolves around Salt Lake City, as well as a kind of alternative culture that exists even in his own town of Orem. Alternative cultures that arise in staunchly conservative settings are supremely fascinating to me. I’d love to have a taste of it myself. Not to mention I’d be living with my best friend for some of the cheapest rent in the country. Work and transportation pose new issues though, and might be problematic for a guy who just graduated and probably will have no money for a car.
As far as what to do for work, ideas are as varied as the locations I’m thinking of living in. First and foremost I hear the beating of my heart, which tells me to pursue singing and songwriting more seriously for at least awhile. I feel like I owe it to myself to do what I really want to do after dedicating 5 years of my life to higher education. Now is a time when I am young and strong, and my body can sustain sleeping on floors and missing a few meals if need be. I want to take it as far as I can, and if I do that, I’ll be satisfied knowing that I took a shot at my dream. My concrete goals are to increase my writing and performing considerably in the next year as school comes to a close. I hope to have at least a full album of songs that I have written and produced on my own. Home recording’s my thing, and I’ve been gaining quite a bit of experience in producing my own stuff. I love the production aspect of music, and I believe that I’m fully capable of producing a nice lo-fi record within a year or two. That will be my major personal project.
I’ve considered jumping headlong into public education to look for work. I already have a lead and foot in the door with my work at Think College Now in Oakland. I’m resuming my work there next semester, and am planning on asking about potential job openings around the time I graduate in May.
I have given the Peace Corps some thought. I’ve had experience with doing service work domestically as a result of my stint with the Christian Appalachian Project. Though it can be trying and rigorous, I enjoyed working with the kids out there and thought about going back until I heard that CAP dissolved the majority of their programs as a result of budget cuts. Bummer. So I thought of doing some work abroad where I could teach English and hopefully acquire another language through cultural immersion. I thought of doing something in South or Latin America where I could learn Spanish, which would be vital if I decided to start teaching in California full-time.
Grad school crossed my mind then left again. I’m certainly considering doing post-grad work, but I can’t even begin to think about that just yet. As much as I’m loving this last stretch of school as an undergrad, my mind is so full of questions and other longings that are calling me to explore. School has a way of smothering the individual if the individual doesn’t want to be there. I’d be lying if I said there weren’t times when I just didn’t want to do it anymore. Although my mind is fresh and ready to take on one last semester, the rigor and restraint of academia wears me down easily these days. It’s just a sign that it’s time for a change. When I’ve been away for awhile, I’ll be at an ideal vantage point to survey grad school options.
I’m typing this from a living room couch at my home in San Diego with Pippin the cat laying across my chest. I’m hung-over. I’m happy. Things are serene. Dad and I are going to see King Kong tonight - the latest Peter Jackson, since there’s no Lord of the Rings this year. He just helped me buy a new guitar with a pick-up, a Christmas gift as well as a symbolic sign of support. Life is beautiful, and things are in unison for the moment. I hope you’re feeling the same right now.
Here’s to Our Love and Health in the New Year. Cheers.
Love,
Nicholas Vincent Marcotte