CULTURE
Have A Little Faith In Me
Thoughts on being alone, the nature of manhood, and the timeless music of John Hiatt
I’ve always said I enjoy being alone, that I revere my quiet time. As a general rule, I don’t require a lot of human interaction. I prefer solitude over excitement, and recharge myself by being able to process the world on my own. In a nutshell, I prefer to be alone — or so I’ve always told myself.
I’ve often thought that as long as no one was fucking with me, prison wouldn’t be so hard for a guy like me. Let me be, and I’ll be fine. But then I have to imagine that I have nothing to read, no way to write, no internet to browse, no distractions, no input, no way to communicate with others, and no feedback on my thoughts.
That would be a nightmare, I’ve concluded. I’d be utterly alone with my own thoughts for days, weeks, months, years, or even decades. That’s not good for anyone, maybe even less so for me. I don’t want to be alone, I’ve decided, but I do like to be left alone. I enjoy a certain distance in today’s crazy world, where I’m doing my own thing, but I know someone is in the next room if I should need them.
I saw John Hiatt perform in the early 90s at a free concert at Penn’s Landing in Philadelphia. A friend of mine in the music business…
