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Judd Apatow has a good line in his latest book, Sicker in the Head.
There’s a feeling that you get when you get older, where you realize, like, kids don’t remember M*A*S*H. They don’t remember Cheers or Family Ties. And pretty soon, they won’t remember Friends. You feel everything is going off the cliff in a very Buddhist way. Whether you like it or not, you start feeling the texture of the nature of everything disappearing and that you are really only alive in this moment.
I love that. It turns None of what I do will be remembered?! into I guess I better create for the joy of it. Because none of this lasts. Not your time on earth and certainly not the glory you get from your achievements. Apatow’s point is that even the thing that is supposed to outlive us — our creative work — probably won’t, and even if it does it won’t live for long.
Quick: Name your favorite vaudeville-era play.
Now, some Type A people, to keep themselves from leading slothful and perhaps nihilistic lives, will say, “What about Shakespeare? Or, going way back, Homer? Couldn’t I be like them?
To which I say: What about the Egyptian storytellers who, according to scholars like Will Durant, most likely inspired Homer? Can you name them?
