It’s a Wonderful Life is my favorite movie. I watch it every year, at least once. I have absorbed the dialog into my daily
life. I have the poster in my living
room. I have a George Bailey action
figure, pristine condition, still in box.
I love the dialog (I have a pet theory that Dorothy Parker
wrote many of the better lines). I like that
subtle flaws are woven into each character.
The flaws humanize the characters, but also allow them to fit into both
the normal world, and the Ex-George Baily dystopia – it’s kind of genius. Most of all, I love the message, more so now
than ever.
At this middling point in my life, I confront not only my
mortality but my mediocrity. The big
plans and possibilities I had when young mostly never happened. My name on a screen, five feet long and
luminous, was usurped by my signature scribbled on sick notes or on mortgage
checks. I wrote no great novels, won no
battles, saved no villages, built no empire.
I am a B+ guitar player who married well and can mix a
decent drink. I took time for my children and was lucky with money. I have failed at plenty and never did all
that much to make the newspapers.
My only hope for glory is that the movie suggests, no one is
a failure if they have friends.
My moral résumé rests on a theory that I helped more than I
hurt. I have never saved a kid from
falling through the ice, or kept old man Gower from prison, but maybe a few people
might’ve fallen without me, maybe a few families might not have been families,
maybe a few folks lower on the ladder.
No way to tell for sure, but I hope things were better with
me than without me. I hope my life has helped the complex gears of the universe
to turn a better way. I hope in some
small way I have been secretly important.
I’m sure lots of us feel the same way.
So while I don’t know for sure for myself, I know that when I
spend time with my closest people, and when I see the names on my feed -- all
the people who have fed me, kept me on their couches, gotten me jobs, made
music with me, saved me, all the other particulars that made up days both long
past and recent – I am very thankful. I
know that my own Bedford Falls is much better for your efforts.
Multiply that by everyone you know, and you can bet you did
some good. “You see George, you really
have had a wonderful life.” It’s worth
remembering that The Wonder of the life which Clarence celebrates isn’t the
particulars of George’s life, it’s the effect his life had on others.
So if you’re feeling middling and blue right about now,
consider this a Christmas card from your buddy J. Don’t be hard on yourself. Think of the ripples you have left, the
people you have lifted, the good you have done and hopefully you can hear some
hint of a bell ringing.
