Kicking off with Tracey Ullman (below) I was treated to a spate of love songs tonite. I heard them all….Ullman’s bad-boy eff you to the world, the Beatles holding hands and even Toby Keith’s strike back at high school unrequited love. All of a sudden it dawned on me: I don’t believe them. I have officially become so alone and jaded that I cannot possibly believe that such songs could exist for any reason other than “well, it rhymes.” I’m listening and I’m like I dunno, I just don’t get it….being that in love, having it such a huge part of your life? No. I just can’t see it anymore. Life is tuff enough. Every fucking step is a battle, and by the end of the day it’s all a collection of trees on the sidewalks, deep breaths and diet sodas. Now I hear this stuff, and right now it just rings false. Couple kissing on the street? I don’t believe it. Get married, birth a Pop Warner team, renew your vows, I do not believe it. I can not wrap my heart around anyone feeling that way. I know I may be wrong, but that’s that.
Maybe other love too. I’m not a father but I’ve got some young bucks for whom I would throw myself in front of a bus, my heart bursting for them to be great young men. But so what? Soon as they get old enough, I’m just another old dude that’s friends with their parents. Someone else to roll their eyes at while I prattle on about their high school football clippings. Just the way it goes, I reckon. I assume my parents loved me, but at no time did I dance around my room dancing and singing “yes yes yes, mom and dad love me, it’s great!” I’m sure like any other youngster all I could think of was “how can I get these two people on the Space Shuttle?”
The point is, it’s all passing me by…I’m watching people my age do things I thought we were too young for – have families, houses, businesses et al. All while I’m sitting here staring at the wall. Thoughts smack though my head like I’m running through trees but I just sit, numb. And probably dumb. I feel like I missed the day where they explain everything to you; I was in the pisser while they gave all the important info out. In one day they explained love, careers and success; I missed that one but of course I know all the state capitals. And to top it off I appear dead set on setting the record for misplaced semi-colons. Great.
About ten years ago I read a poem – I can’t remember the poem, or who wrote it. But I remember the author saying something about waiting for one picture to come, one photo that was going to bring his life into focus and make all the difference. Somehow I’ve remembered that and it’s gnawed at me. I’ve always teetered between that sentiment and the feeling that I’m setting myself up for even more disaster. But I can't help but feel it right now, that there’s one single thing that’s going to come into my life and give it air, give it purpose. Just one fucking thing. One moment. That’s what I am doing, waiting for that one thing in my life that will make all the difference.
4 comments:
This post is my very favorite thing you've ever written. Damn. I know exactly what you're saying. Everyone does. But there is no big thing, nor is there a next big thing. For everyone, regardless of how grand they choose to present themselves, life is a series of moments, notable and not so notable and you just keep putting one fucking foot in front of the other, man. If you were married with kids perhaps you'd look longingly at the single guy at the end of the bar. The grass may look greener but it's probably fucking astroturf.
Your best girl
Monica
When you're finally in love, the goofy songs make sense.
C'mon, Xmastime! Put on a clean shirt and send me your resume.
Maybe this is your big moment!
I work with plenty of hot chicks with low self-esteem. But, you know...they are all smart and funny too, kinda like you.
Ah, moments� Couple of years ago, walking from a great Marah show to a bar around the block� You are briefly holding hands with Shalitas and other girls as everybody is moving in a group down the road.
I take your empty hand when one of them lets go to run up ahead. The light giddiness of the moment abruptly stops as you turn to me with a dirty look while throwing down my hand while asking me who the hell I am.
sigh. now those were good times. (sniff sniff)
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