So a ton of people have been asking about our namesake. "Why Tacoma Narrows?" they say. Well, I'll try to keep it succinct. Which will be really fuckin hard for me.
On the surface, Tacoma Narrows is a bridge. It's a bridge that stood for 4 months and collapsed because a structural flaw that caused it to twist and turn and "flutter" in the wind. If you haven't already, watch the video below. It's kind of insane:
But for me, it's become so much more than a bridge. It's a way of life. A way of being.
By itself, the destruction of the a bridge is kind of morbid. But when I think of Gary Peterson's ink print of what looks like a man dancing on the bridge right before its collapse, it takes on a much more specific and profound meaning.
The man dancing on a bridge while knowing it's about to collapse reminds me of a life well-fuckin-lived: On one hand, he acknowledges that at some point all of this -- buildings, bridges, trees, cars, etc. -- will give way to nature and entropy. But in the face of his demise, he reacts with celebration and joy rather than nihilism and despondence. And that idea, to exalt the certainty of death, is a worthy pursuit.
The construction, twisting, and eventual collapse of Tacoma Narrows gracefully unveils the illusion that this world and our lives are permanent. But it is the impermanence and ephemeral nature of life that gives it its beauty. The man dancing on the bridge reminds us that life is short, that we need to take risks, and that there is an urgency that comes with life's brevity that should inspire rather than defeat.
And that's kind of fuckin beautiful.
So it's true, Tacoma Narrows was just a bridge that happened to fall down because of a design flaw, wave resonance and aeroelastic flutter. But with a little imagination (and a lot of pontification) this bridge is so much more than a bridge. It's a reminder and a call for a life well-fuckin-lived. And we hope that our music and our songs get at that idea, at least a little bit.
With love and gratitude, Cheney