Why Sharks Miss Out on So Much

One of my favorite Woody Allen lines is, "Relationships are like sharks. They have to keep moving forward or they die. I think what we have here, is a dead shark."

Everyone under the sun has since used a form of it, but the original still makes me laugh.

Right now I'm listening to my iPod and one of my favorite compositions ("Mom" from The Musical Calvin and Hobbes) just popped on. And I had to stop and listen to it, though I've heard it a gumbillion times.

I guess I'm just proud of it. And my friend Mary's performance of it just melts my heart. My female singer friends have that effect on me.

©1992 by Ted Kopulos

[NOTE: This clip is from an evening of my music and lyrics. The Calvin and Hobbes musical has never been produced. A copyright thing, you know. I've yet to even approach creator Bill Watterson about getting the rights.]

So what has this to do with sharks? Hang in there.

I used to be a person who thought about the past a lot. Things were better in the past, so I thought. I was so much more consciously passionate about my writing back then, I had more confidence, less real-life worries ... I could look down and see my feet.

Then I thought to be grown up meant to completely let go of the past. Man, was that wrong. Memories really can be great company sometimes. As King Arthur says in Camelot, "There are times, Mordred, when the only true vacation spot is the past."

I've learned during a very hard past two years, that it's a balance. The good things about the past help you keep going into the future. And the bad things in your past help you learn.

Holy crap! This sure turned into an Ann Landers column, didn't it?

Anyway, I suppose I'm saying that despite my penchant for dumping old projects without a fair shake at marketing them, I still like going back occasionally and listening to my work from years gone by.

So you see, sharks never get to go back and enjoy the places they've been or the things they've done ... or the people they've eaten. They just keep going forward, hoping things will somehow work out, and they'll run into a slow surfer before dinner.

Okay, now I'm just sounding like Craig Ferguson ...

I guess it just comes down giving myself permission to reminisce without guilt. As long as I don't stay there too long.

One of the songs I originally wrote for The Poptimists (see that tie-in?) sounded really familiar. And if something sounds too familiar I dump it-- unlike a lot of knock-off "composers" (but that's a rant for another day).

I soon realized I had already written that almost same melody 20 years ago. But since it was part of a score that was never produced, I wondered if it would be okay to use it for this score.

But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I know it's common for composers to use older unpublished songs when they need them for new projects, but it just feels like I'm cheating somehow if I do it. I want to write new stuff from the moment I get the idea for the project.

I'm sure it's a symptom of some kind of a yet-to-be-named neurotic disorder, but it just feels right to me to not grab things from my trunk.

Okay, it's 2:45am and I have no idea where I was going with all this. I just reread it and seems like half way through I started smoking something. I think it was originally supposed to be something about looking back is okay, and sharks can't look back.

So I guess the moral was going to be something like: I'm glad I'm not a shark.

Even if that wasn't going to be the point, I still am glad I'm not a shark.

Next: I'm not on meds, but perhaps I should be.