My 17-year-old self didn’t do a good job of listening to anyone but himself. Most of the time, I said what I wanted and did what I wanted. I was, as most every teenager I knew, deaf to the voice of anyone older than me. (My home life allowed a certain Huckleberry Finn-like existence, but that’s a story for another time.)
I’m twice as old now as I was at 17. Every now and then, I’ll drive past some place in town that haunts me with memories of things 17-year-old Patton did—an alleyway here, a backyard there—and wish I could step back in time and offer myself some advice. I’d want to deal with the specifics: “Don’t do drugs.” “Don’t hurt that girl; you’ll want her friendship later.” However, I also hope we’d get into the broader stuff that actually gave shape to his/my life.
17-year-old Patton: What do you know at 34 that you wish you had known at 17?
34-year-old Patton: That’s a pretty obvious place to begin, isn’t it? Think harder. What do you really need to know?
17 Patton: I need to know if I’ll be rich.
34 Patton: You won’t be.
17 Patton: Then, will I be happy?
34 Patton: You’ll be ordered. At least, you’ll be trying to be organized; and organization will bring you happiness.
17 Patton: What does that mean?
34 Patton: It means life doesn’t come easy. Not always. All that junk about daring to be different and swimming upstream and following your gut when making tough choices…that stuff makes all the difference.
17 Patton: So you came here to tell me life is hard? I already knew that.
34 Patton: It’s not that simple. The thing is, Patton, there isn’t a magic pill that makes everything crystal clear. Because you’ve had so little direction until now, you’ll always feel like you’re facing a thousand alternatives. You think you can do anything, and you can; but that’s not what matters. What matters is that you choose something, stick to it and let it define you. Go down to the very bottom of something.
17 Patton: Are you talking about God? My career? Girls?
34 Patton: Yes.
17 Patton: How do I know if I’m choosing the right thing?
34 Patton: By listening very carefully.
17 Patton: To what?
34 Patton: To your life. Know your life well. Listen to it. When it sounds bad, make a different noise. It’s harder to do than you might imagine, but you can do it. Listen also to your friends’ lives. Listen to the lives of people you admire. Mimic the best sounds.
17 Patton: Well, we’ve become quite the sage, haven’t we?
34 Patton: You never were as funny as you thought you were.
17 Patton: I’m just compensating for my insecurities. I know that already.
34 Patton: That’s the other thing: Everyone else is just as insecure as you are. You’ll find people to admire and learn they, too, have deep insecurities; people heal.
17 Patton: That sounds totally depressing.
34 Patton: It’s not. It’s reality, and you’ll love reality. True truth is so much better—it makes a clearer noise—than true-sounding lies. Some of those people you admire will be deeply in touch with their insecurities rather than afraid, and you’ll love them for their honesty.
17 Patton: OK. I guess I didn’t need to do drugs to get all earnest, philosophical and geeky.
34 Patton: Nope. See, you’re listening to yourself already.
