Chadwick Bosemane reminds us how fleeting life is
I went to sleep ticked off Friday night. Not going to get into it, but suffice it to say it involved a wounded ego and minor financial implications. End of the world stuff? Hardly. But I was aggrieved nonetheless. And that’s how I went to sleep.
Woke up at 3 a.m. and I was still annoyed. Rolled over, and did what I normally do when I wake up aggravated and realize I’m not going back to sleep anytime soon - I grabbed my phone and hit Twitter. It’s the first step in a return-to-sleep process I have: Check Twitter, check sports scores, listen to a podcast I’m moderately interested in, but not interested enough to not eventually doze off.
So yes. Twitter. And I saw Chadwick Boseman trending, along with “Wakanda” and “Black Panther” and I clicked it assuming there was some news and … holy crap.
Now listen: I’m not going to sit here and say I was a Chadwick Boseman fanboy, but I did enjoy “Jackie” and I thought “Black Panther” was awesome. Boseman was pretty damn electric onscreen. And I had seen that Jimmy Fallon bit he did, meeting fans of his, and I’ve read a few profiles of the guy, and yeah, without question, he seemed like a generational actor and an even better human being.
I’m also not going to sit here and wax poetic about how important Boseman’s roles were to the Black community. I mean, besides Jackie Robinson, he also portrayed James Brown and Thurgood Marshall, and who knows who else he would’ve played in the future. Of course, he reached a whole new level of fame as Black Panther. But no. It’s not my intent to celebrate him as a Black man and what he meant to the Black community. Plenty of more-qualified people are doing that.
What I do want to talk about, however, is the fact Boseman had been battling colon cancer for four(!) years and continued to work and thrive and see the world in a bright light.
You know why I want to talk about this? Because whenever I hurt my back, I’m complaining about it to whoever will listen. When I’m tired, you’re gonna hear about it. Weather cruddy? I probably have something to say about that too.
So when I get a wounded ego crossed with minor financial implications? Hoo-boy. Aggravated enough to go to sleep angry, pissed enough to wake up at 3 a.m. still stewing about it.
Then I see the news of Boseman’s death, and the fact he battled this killer for four years, and the fact he did so in the public eye without anyone finding out, and the fact poor me is sitting in bed stewing at 3 a.m. because of a perceived - oh, I didn’t mention it might not be an actual? - slight?
Welp, I felt like a giant spoiled baby for about the 500th time in recent memory.
See, I’ve always been a giant spoiled baby, but I never really recognized it.
But lately … lately I have been recognizing it. Not enough to prevent Giant Spoiled Baby Syndrome, but enough to sometimes snap to it before I let it consume me.
Maybe its middle age, maybe it’s the coronavirus, maybe it’s the kids growing up too fast, maybe it’s late-blooming maturity, maybe it’s a combination of all this, maybe it’s not, who knows, but all I know is this: Every so often, with increasing regularity, I find that I’m over myself. (I’m guessing after 20-years of doing this newspaper gig, there must be others who are over me as well. Do you guys have meetings? Can I come, or would that be weird? Anyway …)
Anyway, here’s a guy, top of the world, fame, fortune, family, and 43 years old. And gone.
His friend, the actor Josh Gad, thought it appropriate to share with the world one of the last texts he got from Boseman. It said, in part, “We should take advantage of every moment we can to enjoy the simplicity of God’s creation.”
I’m not a religious guy, but I am someone who for whatever reason - is growing sick and tired of my spoiled baby routine. Sick and tired of letting stupid stuff simmer in my soul. Sick and tired of not taking every moment - literally, every moment - and making the most of it. Sick and tired of having to remind myself of this. Sick and tired of needing the death of a man I never knew to have to remind myself of this.
It’s trite, but no less true: We only get one shot at this. We - I - should be mindful of every moment, just like Boseman wrote to his friend.