A Clean Slate


We talk about people having a

clean slate.

He served his time and now he has a clean slate.

Every day is a chance to start over with a clean slate.

It’s a new year and everyone has a clean slate.

This figure of speech is defined (obviously) as “to start out again afresh; to ignore the past and start over again.” I assume that the expression arose at the time before easy access to paper and pen when children in school did their lessons on slates – little iPad sized blackboards – with chalk and after each session would clean the slate to start anew.

It’s a seductive and popular idea but there is only one time in life when we actually have a clean slate: the day of our birth (and some reincarnation philosophies would argue with that). Nevertheless the concept of a clean slate is appealing and it persists in the human mind. So here I am on 1 January 2016 pondering this idea. I find myself conflicted about the value of the illusion of the clean slate. While the idea is provocative it is also flawed. Our personal history makes us who we are and that has a great deal of value. That history includes the so called baggage we’d like to get rid of. As a man who has mined his personal history for three books, baggage included, I treasure all the lessons life has taught me and do not want – even if it were possible – to have a clean slate.

The spot where I sit writing this morning is anything but a clean slate. This table itself has a significant history. Not only is it where I wrote my first two full length pieces of original fiction (two screenplays) beginning in 1978 but I made it from boards that also have a significant history.

In 1973 I was thrust, woefully unprepared, into my first big film production job. At the time of this occurrence I had exactly seven days of experience in film production and the largest crew I’d worked with was maybe seven guys. Here’s an excerpt from my memoir Circumstances Beyond My Control: … in April of ‘73 BC [my old buddy Bob Collins] was hired by Lou Adler, Carole King’s manager, to produce and direct the filming of Carole’s Central Park concert in May. He offered me the job of production manager and I, of course, accepted – having no idea of what I was getting myself into.

This ended up being a huge job with a crew of over a hundred comprised of five union locals plus the teamsters, I was in deep water way over my head but for that story you’ll need to read the book. Anyhow we had a small camera crane on the shoot and I built this table (as well as part of three book cases in my living room) from the sixteen foot 2 X 12 boards that served as its track.

Dining Room Table Made of Camera Crane Track

Dining Room Table Made of Camera Crane Track

It was Elizabeth and my dining room table for twenty-three years and when she left me and I moved my office to our apartment it became my editing work desk. When she moved back in nine years later I refinished it, got new legs and reinstated it in the dining room and it now serves double duty for both dining and writing. This is not a clean slate nor do I want it to be.

Each of us has their own approach to and philosophy of life, whether conscious or unconscious, and far be it from me to impose mine on anyone. All I want to do is suggest that you think about it.

Do you really want a clean slate?

In case you’re interested you’ll find my memoirs here.

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