Blogpost, self-reliance

Being from New Jersey is a Superpower!

Anyone who is not from New Jersey just thought, “Makes sense, lots of superheroes get their powers from toxic waste!” I can appreciate the humor about my home state, which I learned in my late teens is sometimes referred to as the “Armpit of America.” If you’re not from New Jersey, poking fun at us is easy, and I’ll get to the other forty-nine states in just a moment. For now, I’m going to point out some of the better aspects of being from the “Garden State.”

1. New Jersey is small.

Not Delaware small, but small enough that being from NJ means something. Sure, the North Jersey/South Jersey thing exists (does Central Jersey exist?), but overall, being from New Jersey is an identity. Put two people from New Jersey in a room anywhere in the country and there’s a pretty good chance they’ll start trying to figure out where the other one is from, what high school they went to, and whether they know the same people.

That’s not necessarily a bad thing.

2. New York City is right next door.

Living in the almost literal shadow of probably the most important city in the world puts a bit of a chip on one’s shoulder. People from New York State can associate themselves with the City easily. Much to my chagrin, we even have multiple professional sports teams that take the City name but play in NJ. The owners either want the cachet or are embarrassed by their location. Either way, it breeds a little-brother mentality that can serve our residents well.

We’re constantly reminded that we’re almost New York, but not quite.

Eventually, you learn to be comfortable being underestimated.

3. The Turnpike, Newark Airport, the Parkway and Jersey Shore are usually the first things that pop into people’s minds about NJ.

While they are all eyesores in their own right, they do a pretty good job of embodying the Jersey persona: “You don’t know me until you know me.”

People discount an entire state based on the worst of what we have to offer, and that’s generally okay with us. Most of the people that I know from NJ are extremely tight with “their people” and a bit suspicious of outsiders. It’s not that we’re unfriendly. It’s more that you need to put in the time to get to know us.

We have it all, but we’re pretty easy to dismiss if you can’t be bothered to look.

And honestly, there’s something useful about that.

4. Pork Roll or Taylor Ham?

Not only do we have a meat that is pretty unique to our area, we also fight amongst ourselves about what it’s called. In all honesty, it’s a tissue-vs.-Kleenex thing, but I’ll move on.

Being unique comes in all kinds of packages, even a little bag of meat. But that uniqueness probably comes with a bit of heritage. A tip of the cap to the people that came before us, because even though we’re not always nice, respect seems to be a big deal.

If you’ll notice, none of these is particularly positive on its own. They’re generalizations that are presented with a positive slant.

Is being from New Jersey truly a superpower?

Not really.

But that’s actually the point.

Each person needs to decide how to look at the ingredients of who they are and choose to see those component pieces as positive or negative. Being overlooked can destroy someone, unless it doesn’t. Unless they use it to make themselves stronger.

That’s true no matter where you’re from.

Maybe you’re too loud. Maybe you’re too quiet. Maybe you’re stubborn, impatient, intense, awkward or just a little different. Maybe you’ve been told that one of those things is a weakness.

So what?

Who you are is an advantage if you figure out how to make it one.

There’s nothing particularly special about being from anywhere. Nothing in the water is going to make you awesome. It might give you cancer, but that’s a different blogpost.

You have to tell yourself a story about your greatness.

Then you have to go out and tell the rest of the world.

Being from New Jersey is not enough.

But it’s not a bad start.

And if you’re wondering whether being a little rude is part of that superpower, I prefer to think of it this way:

I’m not rude.

I’m from New Jersey. There’s a difference.

What exit? Exit 19 off of Route 80!

Pete

Blogpost, self-reliance

Dee: A Masterclass in the Imperfection Necessary to Find Greatness

Before AI, Photoshop, social media, and digital music, it was possible to literally wear out a favorite cassette by playing it too much. One tape that I wore out at least twice was Ozzy Osbourne’s Tribute album, a live recording dedicated to the legendary guitarist Randy Rhoads. It featured incredible performances of Ozzy and Black Sabbath classics, but the track I found myself returning to most wasn’t one of the heavy hitters.

It was “Dee.”

Named after Randy’s mother, a music teacher, “Dee” is a beautiful acoustic guitar piece. Even more fascinating is the studio recording session included at the end of the album. Instead of hearing the polished, finished version, you hear Randy working through it. There are pauses. There are mistakes. There are quiet “oops” moments. You hear him stop, regroup, and try again as the piece gradually becomes smoother.

It’s a rare glimpse behind the curtain.

An intimate acoustic instrumental probably isn’t the first thing that comes to mind when you think of Ozzy Osbourne and Randy Rhoads. Their public image was loud, aggressive, and larger than life. But that contrast makes the lesson even more powerful: the public version of greatness rarely reflects the messy process that created it.

Today, we have more tools than ever to hide that process. AI can rewrite our words. Photoshop can erase our flaws. Social media lets us publish only our highlight reel. Digital recording can make every note sound perfect.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with any of those tools. In fact, before you read this, I’ll run it through an editing process to make sure I’m at least coherent.

The danger isn’t editing.

The danger is believing that perfection is the goal.

Students become afraid of anything less than an A. People obsess over every perceived flaw in their appearance. Fans expect athletes to perform flawlessly every night. The fear of stumbling becomes so overwhelming that creativity, originality, and passion begin to disappear. We slowly trade our humanity for the impossible goal of becoming flawless machines.

But flawless machines don’t create art.

Humans do.

So today, DEE.

Create the studio session, not just the studio version.

Allow yourself to say, “Oops.” Let people see that the process isn’t always clean. Keep working until you’re proud of what you’ve made, noticing how it gets a little smoother with each attempt.

The process will never be perfect.

It was never supposed to be.

But greatness?

That’s still on the table for anyone willing to embrace the imperfect path that leads there.

Rock and Roll!

Pete