God’s lonely man

For whatever reason, HBO and Cinemax are obsessed with “The Doors” and “Apocalypse Now Redux.” I swear to God both are shown each day, much to the pleasure of Oliver Stone and Francis Ford Coppola. They’re good movies, but shit…give it a rest. How about showing “Rumble Fish” or “Platoon” once in a while?

“The Doors” just ended, climaxing on scenes of Jim Morrison in eternal repose and cleanliness and a walk through the Père Lachaise Cemetery to his grave. (A couple weeks ago I was in Venice with a friend and his wife for the Abbot Kinney Festival, a single-day arts, crafts, and music exhibition along Abbot Kinney Boulevard. Venice is cool. It’s eccentric, eclectic, artsy, and very bohemian; it’s a throwback to the 1960s, a Jim Morrison kind of place. While there I couldn’t help wondering if Venice influenced him or if he influenced Venice.) Morrison died at the famous age of 27, which is how old I’ll be next Thursday. That means I’m only 26, the same age as Travis Bickle, for another week.

For those who don’t know, Travis Bickle is the iconic main character in “Taxi Driver,” one of my favorite movies. Played by Robert De Niro, Bickle is a lonely and depressed man who begins working as a taxi driver in New York City to occupy his sleepless nights. He navigates avenues lined with pimps, prostitutes, and porn theaters. He’s a loner, a recluse, and his feelings of isolation in The Big Apple are crushing, driving a growing hatred of the world around him. His efforts to fit in and find love backfire. Loneliness, as he says, has followed him wherever he’s gone. He is “God’s lonely man.”

Like Bickle, I’m a loner, a recluse. I live a solitary life and am by myself most of the time. However, there are major differences between us. I have a roommate, friends, and am not a psychopath. Also, I’m obviously a real person; Bickle lives only on film and paper as an archetype, the creation of a skillful writer, director, and actor.

Another major difference is the way we handle aloneness. Loneliness cripples Bickle. It is omnipresent throughout his day, casting a shadow over everything he does, driving his dejection. I, on the other hand, thrive as a loner. I work and live best by myself. I am a born quiet man and wallflower; I have always preferred to stand at the fringes and observe.

I’m comfortable being alone, but it took time for me to reach that point. Bickle never got there; he reached another point, somewhere along another mental path. And the reason was this: he buys into the dreams of monogamy and it’s promise of happiness.

Sure, some people date, get married, have kids, and live happily ever after with their soul mate. But only some people can do that. It’s not the ideal life path for everyone, even though many believe it is. Bickle is, unfortunately, one of them. In my opinion, he’s probably better off living the life of another De Niro character, Michael from “The Deer Hunter.” I have no clue what Michael’s fate was after the events of the movie, but I picture him drinking beer with his buddies, hunting deer, drinking beer with his buddies while hunting deer, and working at the steel mill. I picture him being comfortable with his bachelorhood, though he’d probably play around with the idea of courting Meryl Streep’s character. Bickle is, as the song goes, better off alone, just like me.

I once wrote to a good friend and mentor of mine, “Dating isn’t my thing.” It’s not, and I’m comfortable with that. While many others my age — including a few of my friends — are married or in serious relationships, I’m still living the dream of single life and am damn proud of it. Iowa City musical legend Greg Brown isn’t my favorite, but he sums it up well in the only song of his I know: “I’ll be happy happy happy by myself.” In that song he sings of the agonies of relationships, much to his amusement; he laughs when he sees a couple arguing in public, and gloats about not folding his towels after washing them.

Yes, there are times when I yearn for the slender, soft feel of a female body in my arms, the look of interested and wondering eyes as they gaze into mine, the ability to be myself with someone who feels like home, and sex. But those things come with so much unwanted baggage that it’s almost not even worth it. Relationships and dating are a lot of work and take a lot of time — work and time I’m not willing to sacrifice. I have other, better things I want to do. Instead of pursuing a lifestyle that clearly doesn’t interest me, I’m doing what I want, following my own path and not the one crowded by everyone else, both misguided and fated. If Travis Bickle would have thought the same way he wouldn’t have been God’s lonely man. He would have made the best with his life instead of trying to be someone he was never meant to be.

Thankfully, for us “Taxi Driver” fans, he did the opposite.