I just read the story of the man who wrote Jingle Bells: James Lord Pierpont, born in 1822. First of all, I found out that the song did not start out as a Christmas song. But quite the opposite. (And already there, I should have known there was something to be discovered, in that story.) What is one of the most famous songs in all of history, and probably the best known Christmas song of all, began as a song about horse racing. But it doesn't end there: James had a very sad life. A life of failure and failure. As a young man, he set out to find gold to the Klondike (Chaplin's famous gold rush).
But then, unlike the Charlot, he returned empty-handed, having found nothing but calluses in his hands and broken dreams. He soon lost his first wife, who left him alone to raise their two children. It was at that time that he wrote the song.That song... so full of bells and joy, actually emerges from the grief the man was experiencing at the time. How true it is that art soothes pain. But it didn't end there! Lord Pierpont had a terrible relationship with his own brother. During the war, they found themselves on opposite sides.
What nonsense, war.And then, icing on the cake: he never made any money from that song.Often, in the music world, we talk about Mariah Carey and her Christmas song, which probably benefits her more than any other song.Think of Jingle Bells.
Think of how important that song is. How it represents the heart of the most beloved holiday for everyone, young and old. But for James, nothing. Like Melville with Moby Dick, Kafka with his lyrics, Lord Pierpont is one of that endless line of artists who have been recognized only after their deaths.

Why this anecdote? Because I wonder if it was worth it.Is it worth it to do something that remains in human culture in exchange for a lifetime of frustration? The toil of the endeavor, the toil of dreams, of the desire to leave a mark -- how far does it make sense? Now that I have discovered this story, I will think about it.When I am faced with the toil of the endeavor, at the moment when I have to ask myself, "But is it really worth it?" I will say to myself, "Who knows. But maybe, 20 years from now, you will have done your Jingle Bells."