I’ve been thinking about Xzybit.
You remember Xzybit.
He’s the rapper that hosted MTV’s “Pimp My Ride” back in the late 90s-early 2ks.
I wonder what he’s doing now.
Is he still rapping? Is he living off of every-dwindling residual checks? Has he become a chef or a carpenter or, perhaps somewhat ironically, a mechanic or something completely unrelated?
Honestly, I’m not about to do the research.
I’ve got a kid and a business and a commute and a guitar and about a thousand other things to worry about.
I guess I’ve been thinking a lot about those years that buffered Y2K lately.
So much so that when I found myself in the neighborhood of the advertising agencies I used to work at during that time period I decided to go on a nostalgia trip.
It was late afternoon. A bit cloudy and dreary outside. I put some melancholy music in my headphones and walked past the office buildings that once housed my young New York City dreams.
I peeked into the lobbies. Stared up at the skyscrapers and tried to work out the windows of the floors I used to work on. I walked by the old lunch spots and barber shops and happy hour bars which have all seemingly been replaced or shut down.
I was prepared to feel emotional.
I really didn’t feel anything.
(Confession: this is not 100% true. At my very first agency I stood where benches used to be affixed to the sidewalk right outside the main entrance. I used to sit on these benches while I awaited a girl - who, lucky enough, turned out to ultimately become my wife - so we could save the $1.25 subway fare and spend some time walking to our Upper East Side apartments together. That memory did make me feel some things. But that’s between her and me.)
I’m not sure what I was expecting. To miss the wide-eyed optimistic kid I was at that time? To feel proud of the distance I traveled since then? To be scared or content or sad about where I am on my life’s time horizon?
Who knows? But I didn’t really feel any of that. It's still a mystery.
Interestingly, not 24 hours later, I found myself sitting on the floor of the gym having just finished the auxiliary work and awaiting the dreaded conditioning section when our staff started discussing some clients that we hadn’t seen in the gym for a while.
As we called out names and tried to remember time slots, we wondered what had happened to them.
Some of them moved or just moved on. Some of them just had babies or a big trip planned. Some of them are on their way back. Some of them just seemingly disappeared.
But, as we talked, I did find myself having the feelings I was expecting to feel during my trip down my advertising memory lane.
It’s a strange thing. Investing your time and energy and emotion and belief into people who float in and out of your life - seemingly without warning and against your will. Particularly when you are trying to help them find one of the things that have helped you the most.
It’s natural for people to move on. Life takes twists and turns. And, as much as I might hate to admit it, some people just want to explore their options.
But we miss those people.
And, if you are one of those people and are reading this right now, I miss you.
Clearly more than I miss myself.