Saturday, May 06, 2006Come on babyIt was a bad week.The kind of week where, two out of five days, I was in tears before 7 a.m. The kind of week where insomnia stalks and pounces and finds its mark in the darkest hours of the night. The kind of week where there were long hours of just staring into blackness and not finding much of anything else around. I came out of my own hole, briefly, yesterday at work. I started singing - badly - to my office-mate's Bee Gee's song ("How can you mend a broken heart") (of course). She has about 5000 songs on her computer and shuffles them. So we're always going from gospel to Bing Crosby to LL CoolJ to the Tubes. I use the songs as a feeble-minded I Ching, the MP3 oracle telling me how it's going to be. Yesterday it was Bee Gees. And suddenly I realized I should just wail with it. So I stood up, closed the door, and started howling at the moon -- completely out of key -- and boy, I felt better. It was good I didn't drink at lunch. (I never do.) It was good I didn't drink at my girlfriend's dinner yesterday night, either. My girlfriend and her friend had ordered me a margarita and I forced it away from me. Nope, I said. Not tonight. It would get very weird, very fast. Remember that "Kathy on a boat to Singapore" persona? That's where we would've gone. And, as opposed to last time, it would not have had a good ending. On the way home, I decided I needed to go back to martial arts. I REALLY need to get some of this energy out of me. This pent up frustration at how close some things can get, and then completely fall apart. This wailing despair that turns inward but could really explode outward, in a controlled manner, with heavy bags instead of people's faces. Young girls shouldn't die, I scream inside. But they do. Love should always work out, I insist with every fiber. But it doesn't. That's the way it is. And our choices are limited. We endure. The other choice -- if we have kids -- is really not available. So we endure. And what we do inside that endurance is up to us. We can anesthetize ourselves. We can keep ramming up against the same walls and hope someday they will crumble down. We can try to grow. And sometimes we can find ourselves infused with a blue flame of anger and madness, and go into the heart of it and really find moments of transcendence. That's what happened yesterday -- when I started practicing martial art djurus in my front yard, when I wailed with the Bee Gees. I found the blue flame. I found the part where Han Solo turns to face the Storm Troopers and chases them, with a rebel yell, back down the corridor of the Death Star. That's the moment. That's the place to be. Like FUCK THIS!!! and you race headlong into the black despair, all thoughts of everything gone except that maybe pure mad exultation will extinquish the sadness... and it does. It does. I caught a moment of Six Feet Under last night. Nate is making love with Brenda and he has a seizure. (Wrenching parallel to Chris' friend's death. ) The foreshadowing of his own death is laid out. And at the end of the episode, he gets the key to a big gorgeous Harley, left to him by someone whose presence in the episode I had missed. End shot is him blasting up Highway 1 towards Malibu, shades on, wind whipping through his hair. "Don't Fear the Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult overlaying it all. That's what it's all about. This life thing, man, it's tough in the middle. But it's the only thing we've got. And when confronted with the endings, sometimes you just have to turn and chase them back down the fucking corridor, screaming like a madman, oblivious to everything else. I leave you with the lyrics. Rock on, my fellow travellers. (Don't Fear) The Reaper [Written by Blue Oyster Cult] All our times have come Here but now they're gone Seasons don't fear the reaper Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain We can be like they are Come on baby... Don't fear the Reaper Baby take my hand... Don't fear the Reaper We'll be able to fly... Don't fear the Reaper Baby I'm your man... Valentine is done Here but now they're gone Romeo and Juliet Are together in eternity... Romeo and Juliet 40,000 men and women everyday... Like Romeo and Juliet 40,000 men and women everyday... Redefine happiness Another 40,000 coming everyday... We can be like they are Come on baby... Don't fear the Reaper Baby take my hand... Don't fear the Reaper We'll be able to fly... Don't fear the Reaper Baby I'm your man... Love of two is one Here but now they're gone Came the last night of sadness And it was clear we couldn't go on The door was open and the wind appeared The candles blew and then disappeared The curtains flew then he appeared Saying don't be afraid Come on baby... And we had no fear And we ran to him... Then they started to fly They looked backward and said goodbye She had become like they are She had taken his hand She had become like they are Come on baby...don't fear the reaper # posted by Katherine Doughtie Nolan @ 8:16 AM  
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You need to see the SNL skit called "More Cowbell"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0SzusxVofHc # posted by Peter Matthes : 11:43 PM
This is one of my favorites, cowbell and all.Any song that mentions Romeo & Juliet in the lyric is okay by me. # posted by thom de plume : 10:07 AM
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