![]() My family was a family that always went to the movies.O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. Once I was old enough to keep an eye on my two younger sisters, my parents’ movie strategy was to put us in a kiddie movie while they would go and see something more adult oriented (ah the innocence of the 80’s when you didn’t necessarily worry about someone snatching your kids). The only problem with that strategy was that kids movies were normally much shorter, so we would often end up waiting for them in the lobby, and I would usually go into their movie to let them know we were waiting. One afternoon when I was ten years old, I did that very thing. I walked into a movie theatre and saw a bare-chested teenage boy standing at an open window, lifting a crown of brambles onto his head as the snow fell. Strangely haunting music echoed through the theatre creating a sense of dread. I found the images beautiful, and even though I had no idea what was going on, I was transfixed as I searched for my parents in the movie theatre. I eventually found my parents as the boy’s father screamed “MY SON! OH MY GOD!” and the mother wailed “He’s all right, he’s all right, he’s all right!”. My mother quickly told me I needed to leave the movie theatre because this was too grown-up for me. I acted like I was going to but instead stood in the back of the theatre for the rest of the movie. I didn’t know why it was significant that these boys stood on their desks saying “O Captain, my Captain”, but it didn’t matter. I was moved even without knowing the story and the images were forever burned into my brain. A few years later, my parents decided I was old enough to watch Dead Poets Society, so we got the VHS and had a movie night. Seeing the images I had seen that afternoon in the movie theatre in the correct context blew my mind and changed me forever. ![]() I recently had a conversation with my Dad about my favorite movies of all time, and when I named Dead Poets Society, he was surprised. Then I told him this story and he had NO idea I had done that. It’s incredibly strange what has an impact on you, but that is what makes the movies so magical to me. I had always intended to do a post on Dead Poets Society this year, as 2014 marks its 25th Anniversary…but instead I find myself writing about it on the incredibly tragic passing of the Captain himself, Robin Williams. I have so many feelings and I’m not sure how to express them…but I’m going to try. I was always a bookish kid who loved writing so Dead Poets Society‘s message about the importance of literature and art really resonated with me. So THIS was why I was always writing short stories, why I made a monthly trip to the bookstore to buy books, why I devoured movies with an insatiable appetite…I was a member of the human race and art sustains us. Now I watch DPS as an adult and find that its message of seizing the day and finding your passion and finding your voice and making your life extraordinary sustains me. It’s a philosophy I feel like I’ve truly embraced in the past few years (The Head Over Feels motto is essentially Carpe Diem, only with profanity) and my life has been better for it. Robin Williams had an incredibly deep and vast filmography and many performances that had an impact on me (I’ll get to some of those later) but John Keating forever remains my personal favorite. He brings both an impish irreverence and gravitas to Keating…how can you not be inspired by him when he delivers lines like this: The WORDS in DPS are impactful no matter what, but it is in Robin’s delivery and performance that it truly comes to life. “Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because, you see gentlemen, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. ![]() ![]() Listen, you hear it? – – Carpe – – hear it? – – Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary.” But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. “Boys, you must strive to find your own voice. Because the longer you wait to begin, the less likely you are to find it at all. Thoreau said, “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation.” Don’t be resigned to that.
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