People forget that when you’re 16, you’re probably more serious than you’ll ever be again. You think seriously about the big questions – John Hughes
When I was 16 it seemed like all me and my friends did was think about the big questions. We would sit and commiserate about our lack of skills and goals and understanding.
A lot of the time big questions would come out of profound moments of nostalgia or melancholy. Sitting around a couch in a basement listening to some obscure record, or at least we thought it was obscure, talking about life. We spent more time talking about life than doing anything else.
The comedians of the group, a role which most of us took up the mantle from time to time, would break the chill with a well-timed one-liner. Those less interested would talk about movies, maybe even a Hughes film. And the even less interested would be trying to find a way to make out with someone.
It was never a whole group activity. Just a small group on the couch or in the hacky-sack circle. To be honest, most of these talks happened directly following band practice or a show. It was a connection I had with very few people but I really enjoyed.
I feel less deep now, or maybe I know I never was. I almost never consider big questions these days. I guess too many little questions get in the way, or my brain figured out the answers I was seeking before.
It worries me because I know a lot of great art was made in the pursuit of knowledge of big questions, but to be fair that isn’t a recent phenomenon. I just, I still want to care like I did. I still want to have the wonder I had. I still want to need my imagination on a daily basis.
My heroes were Dylan, John Lennon and Picasso, because they each moved their particular medium forward, and when they got to the point where they were comfortable, they always moved on. – John Hughes