The Importance of Being Spaghetti

“Try and try again” or “there is no try.” Which is it? An old adage or Yoda?

I find myself constantly trying AND doing, dreaming AND living, hoping that someday, one day soon, I'll be the spaghetti that sticks on the wall.

Up to this point, I've been the undercooked noodle, rolling off limply, without admiration. In this line of work, writing, singing, public eye, I guess you've got to grow a thick skin. Roll with the noodle-age. Because trying and trying again means failing and failing again. That is, if you choose to see it like that.

But I, for one, do not. 

My ego says, you're not good enough. But my resilience says, you've just got to find the right one. You've got to find the right wall, of the right consistency, in the right house, and, eventually, you will stick. It says, you're not underdone. You're just trying to stick to some slippery walls that weren't meant for you in the first place. 

Believe me, there are days when I feel like penne. Or like corkscrew pasta, all curly-Q. Those have virtually no chance of sticking. Or I feel like floppy bowtie. Better yet, an egg noodle. But despite their floppiness and ease of being overcooked, those stick when you least expect it, sometimes to the wrong things. We must be careful about that.

Thus, at my stronger moments, I'll stick to being spaghetti, and take solace that, even when I don't stick every time, someone will like my al dente perfection and, someday - one day soon - I'll be eaten up with gusto and enthusiasm.