My man crush developed late on him.
I’d known of his existence from at least the first time I saw the movie “Stripes.” So, that would make it sometime in the early 1980s.
He was dead by then, most likely.
However, these last few weeks, Mr. Warren Oates has become my new favorite. The go-to guy when I’m having a bad night. Or day. Or life.
His characters seem to always be on the other side of luck. Yeah, sometime he got the pretty girl. But it seemed she always did something to screw it up. See “Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia” or “China 9, Liberty 37”.
When he was the tough guy, it went wrong.
When we was in the race, he wrecked.
I’m in awe of him right now. Will it pass? Maybe. I used to think Robert DeNiro could do no wrong. And Jack Nicholson. But they certainly went down wrong paths.
So far, Oatesy hasn’t.
Maybe I’ll dig into something one day and it won’t be quite right. I am trying to get a hold of “92 in the Shade” right now. Only on VHS they say. So I bid a buck for one on ebay. Maybe I’ll win. And it’ll be life changing.
Of course, that may be my problem, always searching for some sign, some life-changing fact or journey from a movie. Or a book. Or a song. Instead of looking inside.
Maybe my father is right. There isn’t much in there to begin with. All the brains and no desire to do anything with them, he always implies but never out-right says.
Last conversation I had with the old drunk, he told me I needed to “figure out what the fuck you’re doing with your life.”
I laughed, like I usually do. First it was kind of funny. Second, it’s a defense mechanism.
He’s right. I know. But then he uses his life as some kind of shining example of what “success” is. He started rambling on about civic organizations, things he’d done with his life, being proud, raising three college-educated kids, and so on.
Yes, he’s done a lot of things. But do you need to sit there and list them in a drunken stupor to prove it? Or to prove to your son that he’s a failure when measured up to that?
“Dad, me and you, we have different definitions of success,” I said. “Maybe it’s that simple.”
He stared at me blankly when I said it. I didn’t regret it for a moment. Those times when the truth slip out of my mouth when I’m talking to him get rarer and rarer. They used to come freely. And they always ended in fights. Yelling. Temper tantrums. From both of us. This one wasn’t going to end that way. He knew it. I knew it. It was just going to end.
“If you are happy doing what you do, then so be it,” he slurred. “I just don’t get ….” he trailed off into babble.
That night, after driving home I sat in bed. I started to say things out loud. Cursing my ex-girlfriend for “still taking up space in my thoughts” and the like. It dawned on me how much me and my dad are alike at that moment. Bitter shells of what we once thought we were.
It don’t do much good sulking about it anymore. A lot of folks make choices that hurt people. Hurt them real bad. I’ve done it at least twice in my life. Probably a lot more. Fuck you if you think your hurt is worse than anyone else’s. Everyone has pain. Some are lucky and it doesn’t hit for a long, long time. Some get hit early and never seem to dodge it again. But eventually, it gets everyone. How you respond goes a long way in determining what happens next. Boy, that thought came out stupid. But that’s why I (used to) sit here and just type and type and type. Something good comes out every so often.
Back to Mr. Oates. Not the guy with Hall, but the one with a big toe named bill murray.
He could replace Harry Dean one day as the top dog. Steve Buscemi threatened, but never quite reached the pinnacle. Mickey Rourke went nuts, which didn’t disqualify him, but his surgery did. Hell, I understand what happened, my man, women can drive you to the verge and over the verge of stupidity. You went berserk, I got drunk and apathetic. You probably won that round. Except for the hitting part. If it’s true?
Anyways, I’d rather be Warren Oates than Warren Buffet any day. Pride is greater than money. Except when you need a good suit.