Hey, Universe... Can we slow down this insane runaway train a bit? I think we've just passed ludicrous speed! That half-century milestone is approaching fast, happening soon, far too soon for me. I remember when this happened to my father, let's just say a number of decades ago. Someone thought it would be funny to have cardboard vultures for party decorations. He was not amused. Neither would I be for that matter. I have been too well acquainted with death these last few years to need any unnecessary reminders that that thief, known as the grim reaper, lurks a little closer in spacetime. Where did it all go? Just where am I? When am I? What the hell happened, man? Time is one hell of a trickster. Life is strange. In the words of Jerry Garcia, a long strange trip. And now? It is so very different from the past. Sometimes, it seems just a few short years have passed, but it's been decades, and sometimes, it seems like a century. It's infinity and the blink of an eye all at the same time. I ask again, what the hell happened? 50? How is this even possible? Old, old, old, I'm getting old. Maybe I shouldn't be down about it. After all, there are many people, including my beloved sister, who never got that far. There was my beautiful, kindhearted classmate, Lori, who didn't even see thirteen. Yet another loss for the whole world, as I know she would have accomplished great things. There was another classmate I barely knew, a girl who died tragically from an illness I still don't understand when we were in the 10th grade. She must have been 16 or 17. There was another friend, two months younger than me, who's been gone for 9 years now. I had known him since kindergarten and still can't wrap my mind around the fact he's in his grave. Even in the fullness of time, death sucks. My grandparents, beloved uncles and aunts, and Momma. Yet, Marsha, good god, only 40 years old with many plans, hopes, and dreams, things I know she had the power to accomplish and reach, had she only had the time, hopes, plans, dreams I know because she told me about them. I guess getting old is supposed to be a privilege. It just doesn't feel that way. I'm still here, and they're not. I'm not sure how I should feel. I only know how I actually feel. Melancholy as hell. I miss them all, and I want them back. They say (whoever they supposedly are) that one should not live in the past, and I mostly agree. Still, some of my favorite human beings are there, and only there. Well, with the exception of living in these present-day thoughts and rent-free in my heart. Present-day, future, for as long as I live. Maybe I can't live in the past, but I'll still make frequent visits.
Friends, If you ever feel alone, just know you are not alone at being alone. I would say, 'Don't feel like the lone ranger', but you're probably gonna feel that way anyway. And who would I be to tell you how you should feel? Great goodness, I know it well, myself. Life tends to keep us running all over the place, just trying to keep the lights on and food in the fridge. We barely have time for anything else these days. Then there are times when you find yourself with a full stomach, sitting by the fan in the air conditioning, but missing the no less tangible, yet non-material things in life that working yourself silly can never bring. And we humans are a bit of a mess. We can be light years apart, even when in the same room. And there are so many things about each other that we are simply unable to see. and the silence, especially in those wee hours, man, it is deafening. At the end of the day, we can only see through our own eyes, live in our own minds, and feel with our own hearts. To see, think, and feel beyond those limitations is difficult, if not impossible, but do you know something? It sure does my heart good to see somebody try anyway, especially when they never had to. I can offer no solutions for I am about as clueless as the next person. All I can really say is that there are many of us adrift on the same ocean, a lot of us who have been there, done that, and have one hell of a collection of T shirts to prove it. I'll promise you, if you'll promise me, to keep on rockin', even if it seems we're playing to an empty venue. Audiences are overrated anyway.
Damn, I hate categories. I wish there were only one category: Human Being. We all are, you know? Human beings have feelings. We have hopes, we have dreams. We need to be loved, understood, and to belong. It's like nobody ever looks to the inside. I'm sure we've all heard the talk. "All men are this way" "All women are that way" "Americans are yadda yadda Yoda" "Europeans are Yoda Yoda yadda" "You are blank (Insert race, gender, nationality, or the thousand other damn ways they divide us) so you must be THIS, and think like that, and act like whatever" But it's not like that at all. You'd think we came from different planets, when maybe without this classification and division, we might could be friends. Are there bad people out there? Of course. But those bad apples are in every bucket, every group, every corner of the world. And it is my unscientific, yet probably correct opinion that the good far outnumber the bad.
Man, am I tired. I am just completely exhausted. Today happened long before I was ready for it. Ever wish the world would stop for a little while, that time would freeze, giving you a bit of infinity to get it all together? Some days, I'm ready to rock. Today was not one of them. If I can only get through this next hour without it stretching to eternity, maybe I'll be okay. When I do, I'm going out like a light long before the sun disappears below the horizon. I'm totally spent. I'm totally done. Sometimes, you've got to call it a day and hope for better tomorrow.
The upside? Sleep does wondrous things.
(A few days later)
I don't know why I have the Short Circuit 2 "Los Locos" chant stuck in my head, but I'm very much hoping I don't inadvertently start chanting it out loud. Why? Because it just might lead to a big misunderstanding if anyone overhears. I promise I don't seriously intend to kick anything into outer space. At least not yet. Such are the days in the Department of Car Stereo Repair. If only I had a robot to help me with all these stereos. Speaking of robots, I also have a song, "Marvin" by Marvin The Paranoid Android, stuck in my head. I'm not sure why I've been going back and forth between that and Los Locos, yet here I am. I can well identify with gloomy Marvin and his dusty data banks. Heck, some of my own files are more than 30 years old. And if you count the images and tapes I long ago digitized, way freaking older than that! I could send many of my files on a beer run because they're plenty old enough to buy it. Great god, some of my files are older now than I was when I created them. I was between 19 and 21 when I built my GWBasic programs and wrote my WordStar 5 documents. Anyhow, let's get back to Marvin The Gloomy Robot. Marvin was going through his old files when suddenly a beautiful voice rings out, confessing her love for Marvin and speaking of her search for him. Anyway, I deduce from the lyrics that the female voice Marvin keeps hearing belongs to a fembot, and therefore, Marvin, instead of living miserably ever after, why not go looking for her? You're both robots, and therefore, as the man Andrew Martin knew as Sir once said, time for you is endless. It's never too late for love when you're an immortal robot. Sadly, I am neither immortal nor a robot. In fact, I am older than ever. That dreaded milestone has come and gone. It happened a few days ago, I'm a half-century old. I get a bit down if I think too much about it.
I guess the one consolation I can hold onto is I wouldn't have felt better had I stayed home that day. Four walls and too much time to think is not all that conducive to upbeat cheerfulness. I am really missing some very special people as I was that day, as I am today, as I will forever, precious family and dearest friends. It was not so much about me as the people I love, and miss so very much. (Changing the subject because I can't be caught crying in this place and I hate having to explain myself) (Clean cup move down) I got another spam text this morning (At least I think it was spam) (I mean who in the hell would be seeking me out?) and it got me thinking: That even if I were that diamond in the rough, some sort of a treasure to be putting in all that effort to seek, I am just not in the right head space for that sort of thing. I haven't been for years. Maybe I never was. Maybe I'll never be. Maybe it was experiences between 25 and 35 that
make me so reluctant now at 50. I don't really know, to be honest. I have long ago resigned myself to accept certain aspects of life that are just not gonna happen for me. Even so, I am happy most of the time.... Most of the time. I do have my moments when things get just a little too quiet. I never was a social butterfly, you know. Starting all over with a complete stranger would be scary as hell to me. See? In my catch-22 conundrum, I'd have to know her first. And, ladies and gentlemen, putting carts before horses is what I do best. I'm just that knight through the looking glass in a world backwards to all those fairy tales, as in I too sometimes need rescuing. I guess in an ideal world, the prince and princess would rescue each other. Sadly, past experience has taught me quite well that drama is the worst dragon of all. Once you escape him, you never want to go back again. Especially when Joan Of Arc in her shining courageous armor is nowhere in sight. And with that, it's time for another clean cup move down.
Friends, when you get to be my age, " I Keep Forgetting" by Michael MacDonald takes on a whole new meaning, as does that Futurama quote, "I am the professor, Great And .......uhhhhhh Forgetful!" Anyway, I am very grateful for all the kindness, both here and out in the world, too that I was shown on my birthday. I started that day feeling a bit down, not as much about the 50 as it was missing Marsha, missing Momma, and all the dear friends who are no longer here. But, so many helped remind me that I still have loved ones, and I still have friends. And that means more than I could ever express. Okay, folks. You know the drill: Clean cup move down. Maybe I'll say one more thing.. Of course, Momma has been on my mind a lot of late. After all, she was most certainly there on that day, 50 plus years ago. She was also one to call me every year without fail. No doubt she would have again pointed out that I wouldn't actually be 50 until 9 o'clock that night. Yep. I was a nighttime baby. It's natural to think of your mother on your birthday. After all, I wouldn't exactly be here without her. In a few days, Marsha's birthday will be here. That is going to be another rough one. Man, this is tough. I've got a feeling it will be so for the remaining years of my life. I miss my baby sister. I always will. Okay.. I need to stop this. I am just an emotional mess these days. Clean cup? Move down? You know it, wabbits!
And now I find myself in super slow Michael Myers time again. It seems ' ol Mike is in it for the long haul. How did that Jason V trailer say it? "Nothing this evil ever dies!" Yep, that's Jason, alright. Also, Mike. He's just gonna linger until I cry uncle. Look, buddy, I'll tell you where the secret rebel base is if you'll hurry up and let me go home. Let me break into song: Sloop John B. C'mon people, sing it with me! "I wanna go home, why don't you let me go home, yeah yeah" (singing to Doctor Loomis). "You have the worst aim that I've ever known." These have been some of the longest days ever. I'd imagine tomorrow is going to seem even slower.
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