Good morning –
My first exposure to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar the writer happened while watching one of my all-time favorite television shows, Dave. In Season 2/Episode 4 of this acclaimed auto-comedy, the title character Dave (the real-life rapper Lil Dicky) releases a new song and accompanying video for a song titled “Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.” Like the majority of Lil Dicky’s songs, this one contains an equal mixture of comedy, smarts, rap prowess and a healthy dose of sarcasm or, in this case, offensiveness due to some of the artwork in the video.
In the show, Kareem discovers the video on YouTube and then invites Lil Dicky to his home to discuss the rapper’s work. Thinking he’s being celebrated, Dave is over the moon regarding the invite and shows up to Kareem’s house high, as if it’s all a big fun party. Yet when he walks in, Jabbar begins to skewer Dave about the political optics of the Jabbar song as well as Dave’s work as a whole. It’s one of the best installments of a brilliant three-season show. You can watch the episode’s highlights here.
Since seeing that show, I’ve become a reader of Jabbar’s work on his Substack page. In fact, he was recently named Columnist of the Year (Online) Award for his newsletter at the Los Angeles Press Club’s National Arts & Entertainment Journalism Awards ceremony. According to the judges: “[Jabbar’s] columns are filled with insight, wisdom, and feeling.” I agree. In each post, Jabbar shares a summary of a current news story and then offers his take. Topics range from politics to pop culture to sports and more.
To read the full post, visit his Substack page.
In his most recent post, Jabbar uses a Harry Chapin song called “Greyhound” as the foundation for a portion of his letter. It got my attention because it’s written in a different format than his regular news summary + his take style and invokes coaching, process, and spirit.
Here are my favorite parts:
“One of the most important lessons Coach [John] Wooden taught us when I was at UCLA was that winning was not our ultimate goal. Becoming our best selves—both on and off the court—was the goal.
Most of what Coach Wooden taught us was meant to be applied to our daily lives as much as it was to our daily practice. For him, sports wasn’t the endgame, it was a training ground to be better people. Because of those lessons, I learned to enjoy the practices, the drills, the bus rides, the plane rides, the hotel rooms, the camaraderie of teammates, and the interaction with fans as much as the competition. The championships were also nice, but when I look back, no nicer than any other part of the journey.
This brings us to Harry Chapin’s song ‘Greyhound,’ about a weary traveler on a Greyhound bus who is lonely and depressed about being stuck on a bus that is like a metal coffin. He reflects that because he’s not driving, he has no control over his life. But then he has an epiphany that he’s not driving the bus, but he can control his reactions and attitude. That’s when he says, ‘Looking to tomorrow is the way the loser hides.’ Focusing on the long-term goal robs us of enjoying the short-term joys.
We need to be constantly reminded of what’s best for us, whether from a church pulpit, a poetry book, or a song on the radio. For me, when I get too caught up in complaining about something interfering with my grandiose goals, I think about Chapin’s song and I readjust my attitude. He’s like a chiropractor for the soul. Here’s the song. Maybe it will be a signpost for you, too.”
“He reflects that because he’s not driving, he has no control over his life. But then he has an epiphany that he’s not driving the bus, but he can control his reactions and attitude.”
This idea is intrinsically spiritual and against many of my “first thoughts” when it comes to running into frustration or roadblocks en route to whatever current goals or wishes for my own life. I recently had a conversation with someone about being process-oriented versus goal-oriented. While I do not think the two are mutually exclusive, I find that for myself, for better or worse, I am way more process-oriented. I wake up and do the same battery of morning routine most days; I eat the same foods most weekdays for breakfast and lunch; right now my creative pursuits consist of writing this letter / recording a podcast version each week + having occasional shows and rehearsals and songs to-be-released on the schedule; spend time with family and friends in somewhat routined ways. These things change slowly over time, and not necessarily because I blatantly set a new goal and follow it.
“For me, when I get too caught up in complaining about something interfering with my grandiose goals, I think about Chapin’s song and I readjust my attitude. He’s like a chiropractor for the soul.”
I often wonder if my current ways of eating and writing and making music are aligned with some of my greater goals (smaller stomach for better vascular and back health, less red meat for cholesterol purposes; writing a newsletter and not a book; avoiding improving my vocal technique and breathing). I can complain that there’s not enough time to prepare the foods I should be eating, not enough wide-open windows of uninterrupted time to start the book I want to write, minimal time for music so I might as well write and perform and not hone my skills.
As always, it’s usually when I’m in enough pain that I finally make a change. As my dear friend Bob would always say: “There’s no pain in change, only pain in resistance to change.” (He’d also say there are only two things humans don’t like: “Change, and the way things are.”) People have told me over the years how disciplined I am because I don’t eat sugary desserts. I tell them it’s not discipline, but that the pain of eating said desserts (i.e. not being able to stop when homemade cookies were around, not being able to pass up a good bakery) superseded the joy of eating them. And yes I drove the change, but I needed outside support to identify and enact new and better behaviors to better align with my new goals.
Over the years I’ve become less hard on myself. I don’t know if it’s a result of getting older or accepting more and more that it doesn’t work. (I also keep in mind other quotes heard by wise friends over the years: “If beating myself up worked, I’d already be better” and “If you’re going to beat yourself up, use a feather.” I may not always need a major attitudinal surgery, but a visit to a spiritual chiropractor on a regular basis is usually needed and very effective.
Who in your life is your personal/professional/spiritual chiropractor for your soul? How do you engage that support? Would you like more?
If so, I still have slots for new clients for 2024. Please contact me if you or anyone you know is interested in receiving more support in the new year.
Until next time,
Matt
P.S. Thank you to those who respond to my weekly letters. If you’d like to turn your personal message to me into a public comment here, I would be very grateful!
P.P.S. I’m adding episodes of my podcast/audiocast to Spotify and Apple Podcasts. Please have a listen!