Tuesday Talk

December 6, 2011

Miles Barney

To listen to Miles' Tuesday Talk - click the play button...

I am Miles Barney.

I am Miles Barney; a proud member of Generation Y, whatever that means.

I am Miles Barney; sent from the year 1994 to listen to indie-folk-rock, drink espresso, and infect your youth with apathy and dissent.

I am Miles Barney and I was very distraught when Pluto was demoted from its status as a Planet.

I am Miles Barney and until I was reminded 42 hours ago, I had completely forgotten that my Tuesday Talk was today.

I am Miles Barney and I took 8 years of piano and I have very little to show for it.

I am Miles Barney and I'm good at pretending to know what I'm talking about.

I am Miles Barney and one day I will forget to pick up my kid from school and realize that I have no qualifications to be a father.

I am Miles Barney, the guy you passed in the hallway but didn't want to embarrass by pointing out the peanut butter smear on his nose.

I am Miles Barney and when I was seven I was 100% certain that I was going to be a spy when I grew up.

I am Miles Barney and I have no plans to be a spy.

I am Miles Barney and for years I pretended to not like milk chocolate just because my sister liked it.

I am Miles Barney and I'm not a huge fan of my name.

I am Miles Barney and I used to hate avocados but I'm pretty indifferent towards them now.

I am Miles Barney; I think my frisbee landed in your backyard.

I am Miles Barney; I am looking for a Ms. Brittney Hartman. Is she home?

I am Miles Barney; 1st Trombonist 2nd Chair in the Fresno Junior Symphony Orchestra.

I am Miles Barney; your premier appliance repair shop serving the greater Modesto ounty for 20 years.

I am Miles Barney; a figment of your collective imagination, here for playful banter and comic relief.

I am Miles Barney and right now my torso is colder than the rest of my body.

I am Miles Barney and I never could get the hang of Thursdays.

I am Miles Barney and I demand a new variety of corn that will not get stuck in my teeth.

I am Miles Barney; Terms and Conditions apply; See store for details.

I am Miles Barney and I frequently feel uninformed about current events.

I am Miles Barney and when I was in kindergarten I strongly believed that I would have the same backpack forever.

I am Miles Barney and I shave because society demands it. That was mostly a lie; I just can't grow a beard yet.

I am Miles Barney; can you direct me to your self help section.

I am Miles Barney and if sarcasm was a flavor of ice cream I would buy it.

I am Miles Barney and my autobiography will be titled “Why I'll Never Learn to Accept the Things I Can't Change”.

I am Miles Barney and I bet you are all very worried that this might go on forever. Don't worry, it won't. I've come to realize something. I can't say exactly who I am. I could talk for years and never be satisfied that I've explained myself. I'm not the person on my college applications. I'm not the person you think I am, or the person my parents think I am. I'm not the person I was yesterday, and tomorrow I won't be the person who is standing before you now. No matter how hard I try I can never capture myself.

In 70 years, or whenever I'm gone, it won't really matter what I thought of myself. All that will be left is what people will still think of me; the impact I've made on others. For instance, I could trip while running down the stairs today, spilling papers everywhere and making a ridiculous fool of myself. Yet if no one sees me fall, and I decide not to tell anyone and simply pretend it didn't happen, then for all purposes it didn't happen. When I'm dead no one will know of the embarrassing scene I made on December 6, 2011. Thus no one has a view of me that is consistent with my view of myself. Likewise if some people saw me trip and fall, then those people might have a different opinion of me than those who didn't see me look like a fool. And so on for everything I've ever done. So maybe there are thousands of iterations of me, one for every person I've met. Including myself. Is my own the real me? And then when I die, many of these iterations will live on, although degrading as memory fades. How long will those last? If my skull is dug up years later, like Yorick's, what will my Hamlet have to say about me? I don't know. I can't really tell you. I can't even tell you who I am today, even if I had all the time in the world.

You could ask me to write essays about myself. I could talk about my strengths, weaknesses, and hobbies. I could describe my dreams and my fears. Throw enough of these things together and it might resemble a person. I couldn't tell you if that is me, or if your opinion of me is me, or even if my opinion of me is me but I can tell you one thing. I am Miles Barney.