Our Wordsmith Wednesday this week comes from Otis Redding’s classic track “(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay” the posthumously released The Dock of the Bay.
The lines are:
“Left my home in Georgia/
Headed for the ‘frisco Bay/
‘Cause I’ve had nothing to live for/
It look like nothing’s gonna come my way
So I’m just gon’ sit on the dock of the bay
Watching the tide roll away
Sittin’ on the dock of the bay
With these words, Redding encapsulates the hollow loneliness of moving to a new place in hopes of shifting out of a stagnant situation only to find the same empty horizon. When I moved to Nashville at the end of the summer in 2014, I semi-consciously sought to escape personal darkness and disappointment that seemed to surround my in the strip malls and cornfields of the Chicago suburbs. Living alone in faux-wood floored apartment on the north side, I spent most Saturday mornings that first year driving around on Gallatin and looking out the back door at the trash littered brush. The wistful acceptance in Redding’s words and delivery fills me with the feeling of those weekend mornings sitting at stoplights or staring at scraps of cellophane blow from bush to bush, waiting for something to change.
The Wordsmith Wednesday this week comes from David Foster Wallace’s essay “Joseph Frank’s Dostoevsky” from his book “Consider the Lobster.”
The words are:
“Am I a good person? Deep down, do I even really want to be a good person, or do I only want to seem like a good person so that people (including myself) will approve of me? Is there a difference? How do I ever actually know whether I’m bullshitting myself, morally speaking?”
This passage appears as an aside in an essay about a biography of Fyoder Dostoevsky, a piece filled with these self-aware inclusions that break the fourth wall. Wallace’s ability to tease out those little gnawing human questions in his writing and engage the reader in conversation is one of the main reasons I’m drawn to him and the above words express something that had been bouncing around in my brain for years before I saw them in print. Thanks to David Foster Wallace for putting words to feelings I think a lot of us have.