All That You Leave Behind: A Memoir(15)
I didn’t feel excited at all as I prepared to leave for London. Instead, I felt desperate, crazy, and exhausted. I was coming off a rough summer in which alcohol had become too much of a focal point in my life. I was worried about failing in a city and country where I knew no one. On top of that I didn’t have a place to live over there, and I had very little money to get by on until I figured it out. I knew I should be grateful for such an incredible opportunity, but all I could feel was anxious.
My dad took me to the airport. Part of me wondered if it was to make sure I got on the plane. I sobbed quietly as I said goodbye to him. He grabbed my arms, shook me a little, and repeated loudly, “You’ve got this. You’ve got this.” He waited as I went through security. I could tell even from a distance that he had grown misty.
I didn’t have a cellphone that would work abroad or a place to stay. The thought of this terrified me, but it excited something in him. I was about to go on an adventure. He sent me this email while I was in the sky flying over the Atlantic.
To: Erin Lee Carr
From: David Carr
Date: 07/30/2010
Subject: safe and sound?
Honey. we are so, so xcited for you.
please understand that you carry with you not only our love and support, but our admiration and pride in your decision to bring your ambitions roaring into the world.
your willingness to step out into the unknown and work, at a very young age, to launch an amazing professional life is congruent with who we are, but different in kind. we bring a sense of adventure to life, but often within a very small geographical footprint. you, on the other hand, are working on becoming a citizen of the world. you take our ambitions with you, our ambitions for you and for our family.
I’m sure at some point, probably sooner rather than later, you will look into the mirror and say, “what in the hell have I gotten myself into?” you did not choose the easier, softer road, but one that will ask much and give much in return. oddly enough, you will become something new by remembering who you are. You are a Carr, and that is a complicated, wondrous inheritance. That means you are tough, you are smart, you are someone others want to be around. But it also means that mistakes of hubris, excess, and indulgence will stalk you. Be vigilant to those threats, making good decisions, not every once in a while, but as a matter of course. You are a long ways from home and the consequences and rewards for your decisions will fall to you alone.
That said, please know that I am with you. I don’t just want to know about the good stuff. I want to know everything. And we are not a world away, but a short flight, a quick call, a vid chat across manageable time zones.
I don’t worry about you professionally. The nickel I put on you is one that you needed to get started, but I have every confidence in your industriousness, willingness and substantial skill. You are an earner, a worker among workers.
As your father, I think its okay to say that you have some work ahead of you in your personal life. The willingness to come to rest with the self, with who you are and your own company is something that you will have to master. No one else can fill the hole in Erin. Only Erin can do that. Love and be good to that person in the mirror and you will love and be good to the people around you.
It is, as they say, time to put away childish things. Or as I sometimes say, put on the big boy pants. So much can come so quickly from this and if you act as if you are in the midst of building your future, the world will unfold in wondrous ways and bury you in promises you never dreamed of. Be equal to the path you have chosen.
I can’t even begin to think of all the fun you will have, the friends you will make, and the places you will go. I am deeply proud of who you are and what you are becoming. God has given you and I much—it’s a long walk from the basement of my parent’s home for this little family—and it makes me deeply happy that the adventure has taken this turn. Enjoy every second of it.
With love and admiration, Fahja
I arrived in England, crusty and tearful. Not the greatest start to my big, new life. I made my way via a ￡75 cab ride to Hampstead Heath. One of my dad’s friends, in a streak of mercy, had agreed to let me crash for a couple of weeks while I navigated the housing market in London. His name was Bruce, and he was smart, funny as hell, and loved his dog Jet more than pretty much anything in the world. While we bonded over numerous pints at the local pub with Jet by our sides, I started to feel optimistic. Maybe this would work out. I could be the kid from Minnesota (by way of Jersey) that moved to London and became instantly more charming. Right?
That was always the case with me and alcohol. The booze made everything glow and my troubles fade away. But the feeling was temporary, and it usually ended with me puking all over the room I was staying in (which I actually did the first night I stayed at Bruce’s—he never ratted me out).
Eventually, I found a flat in Hackney with an Italian roommate. It took 40 percent of my nebulous income, but it was safe and a twenty-minute bike ride from the VICE office.
My first day went a lot like that first day at Fox Searchlight, but with smarter fashion choices and a more expensive haircut. I stepped up my game and wore better clothes and, yes, this time I showered. People said hello, but most were too deeply engrossed in their work to pay me any mind. When I stole glances at their computer screens, I could see that they were mostly staring at iChat bubbles. At VICE, I was the only paid intern amid four of the unpaid variety, which did not enhance my popularity. The company did not make it their custom to pay interns, but a special exception was made for me after I told them I couldn’t intern for free as I was not a trustfundarian (what they liked to call the young ones). They agreed to bend the rules, paying me pretty much as little as possible.