Two Generations, Two Styles --Two Men of a Breed Apart

James Hatfield of Irvine never met Daniel Crowley of the world-at-large.

Something tells me they would have liked each other.

Their paths crossed, sort of, last week when I saw a job application letter from Hatfield and an obituary notice for Crowley. Hatfield recently turned 20 and is about to make his entry into the real world. Crowley was 76 and, sadly, has made his exit.

These men obviously shared something. In a world burdened with blandness, let’s just call it style.

Here’s how’s Hatfield began his letter:

“Young. Ambitious. Thoughtful. Insightful and determined to live life to the fullest. I am too young to know much more about myself.”

He went on: “In common form I say to you that what I know and understand I do very well. In the immortal words of Popeye the Sailor: ‘I am what I am and that’s all what I am.’ ”

In the piles of application letters I’ve seen over the years, I can’t remember anyone invoking Popeye. Hatfield, who graduated from University High in Irvine and specializes in multimedia design, went on to say: “I am in a constant state of dynamic self-improvement. Mental note of my surroundings allows me to cross-reference my environment with my purpose. My goal is to find the most efficient and cost-effective system of action in any given situation. The rationalization for this goal is to be capable of 200% performance over expected returns and still have time to take a long lunch.”

At the risk of having my bubble burst about this fellow, I gave him a call. I’m glad to report he knew exactly what he was doing with the letter. “It’s definitely who I am and the way I feel about things,” he says of his letter, “but it’s not the currently conventional perspective. I see it as an open, honest, objective look at one’s self.”

A rural South Carolina native, Hatfield moved with his family to Southern California when he was in the eighth grade. Saying he was “never one to follow suit with everyone else,” he eschewed college despite scholarship offers. “I chose not to go,” he says. “In retrospect, it looks like it likely would have kept me from exploring my world as much as I have.”

Now that he knows himself better, he says, he plans to enroll this fall at UC Irvine.

I don’t know what kind of life or career young Mr. Hatfield will have, but I bet it’ll have some similarities to the one recently completed by Mr. Crowley, who died Feb. 24 of a heart attack in Oruro, Bolivia.

How’s this for the first line of an obituary: “Daniel Crowley, 76, professor, world traveler and bon vivant.”

It continued: “Born in Peoria, Ill., Crowley devoted himself to traveling to Mardi Gras carnivals, festivals and parties around the world. Undaunted when polio paralyzed him during Navy service in World War II, he used the GI Bill to earn a master’s degree in art history at Bradley University and a doctorate in anthropology from Northwestern University.

“He became an expert on the arts and culture of Africa and taught at UC Davis for several decades. Requiring somebody to push his wheelchair, he organized innovative foreign field trips to study folk celebrations and enjoy exotic food and drink. Although he had limited use of his arms and could type with only one finger, he wrote several papers and books, including ‘Creativity in Bahamian Folklore.’ Crowley earned recognition in the Guinness Book of World Records as ‘the most-traveled disabled person.’ ”

You hate to see a guy like Crowley go. Reading his obituary made me realize the problem with my life: too much TV, not enough Mardi Gras.

Even in death, though, Crowley inspires. Even if we can’t emulate him, we can celebrate his individuality, grit and apparently ceaseless ambition to party down.

Hatfield may never travel the world festival circuit, but he sounds like a guy who also hears a distant drumbeat from somewhere.

“My first order of business would be to learn as much about my job and the jobs of those around me as quickly as possible,” his letter says. “Then would begin streamlined integration of my services with those of co-workers and systematic interface with standard administrative protocol.

“Such fast-paced optimization of a work paradigm keeps me sharp and focused on the job at hand while maintaining an overall increase in productivity. High expectations enhance my ability to raise standards in innovation time and time again.”

He concludes by saying: “Now I will leave you to determine the appropriate position for my particular suite of skills.”

Young Mr. Hatfield sounds like an original. I have the feeling he’ll fulfill his pledge to “live life to the fullest.”

Too bad he never met Mr. Crowley, who, while discussing Bahamian folklore and his favorite festivals, no doubt would have told him: “Kid, that’s the only way to go.”

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821, by writing to him at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or by e-mail at [email protected].