The Rules
September 10th, 2025
I don’t write about my dad as much as I do my mom; it’s not that he isn’t as important to me, but that he’s still here. Often, when I’m writing about her, I find it’s my attempt to lose as little of her as I can, like collecting stardust into a coffee tin.
I was watching the Steve Martin documentary on Apple TV last week and he said something that felt like it encompassed my entire being:
“I think if I had any guidance, nothing would have happened for me.”
He’s referring to a few things here. He never had a creative mentor; that’s something that I’ve talked about at length, a part of my life that I can’t help but feel I’ve completely missed. That lack of guidance, however, can be a gift: neither Steve nor I had anybody to tell us how it was done, so we’ve spent our time figuring it out on our own. That has resulted in work that is, at least, idiosyncratic, a little odd and totally unorthodox.
Another side of his remark, though, and the aspect that reminds me of my dad, is the idea of not having any rules, which is hugely influential on me to this day.
When I say no rules, I don’t mean lawlessness. No, I just mean that we are allowed to look at the made-up rules and ancient laws as they’ve been presented and actively wonder if they’re any good at all.
I grew up with a dad with a real sense of wonder and a general disregard for what any dull person would consider normal. This attitude wasn’t an infection; it’s coded in our DNA, and it has largely informed how I perceive the world and what I want to do with the short time I’m here. It also made him an alarmingly optimistic person.
What he has is not toxic positivity; he doesn’t ignore problems or pretend terrible people and tragic acts don’t exist. But he persists despite them; he has made me laugh off more bad luck and tough shit than I ever thought I could.
He believes in action; in that what we do is who we are, and that nothing is insurmountable, even if the thing you think you want is impossible. It just might look differently than you dreamed.
Why am I writing about this today?
Because if I didn’t have these specific tools, I would be dead.
If I didn’t have my sense of humor and my hope, two traits my dad gave me through nature and nurture, I would not be able to exist in this world. A place where violence and uneducated hate persist, a place where people will blindly follow the rules of their tribe, even those rules that go against everything that makes us human.
Every day I want to drink. Every day. Today is no different. This isn't a cry for help; this is my actual life. This plane of existence can be brutal and bleak and fucking dark.
But it can also be funny. And so sweet and blindingly bright. My dad made sure to point out when we were presently living the good life; it was more often than I thought. And there is never a day when I’m not surprised at least once, because I’m open for the universe to do that, because I don’t see the rules between us.
Your politics are not a guide.
The only real rule is love.