what's listening to E, and vice versa

E doesn't care much for smoking, especially women who smoke; in anyone it's just the craziest ugliest thing to do, but that's neither here nor there cause I like this song. Like it lots. Perhaps it's the melody, which is very easy on the aural planes, or maybe it's the sentiments of love and the comparisons of adorations to the simplest complexions.

Here's why I like it so much...


40 Dogs (Romeo & Juliet)
-Bob Schneider

Well if I spell it out, if I get it out,
Will you hear me when I tell you about
What I have to say, before it gets too late?
It's not as easy as I said it'd be,
But there’s something right about you and me,
Something right about you and me.

Well you’re the color of a burning brook,
You’re the color of a sideways look from an undercover cop in a comic book
You’re the color of a storm in June,
You're the color of the moon.
You’re the color of the night, that’s right,
Color of a fight - you move me.
You’re the color of the colored part of The Wizard of Oz movie.

We're like Romeo and Juliet,
We're like 40 dogs, cigarettes,
We're like good times that haven’t happened yet but will.
And I can tell you where we're gonna be
When the whole world falls to the sea:
We’ll be livin’ ever after, happily.

All the boys taking you for granted,
Tell you what they want with their eyes all slanted.
I don’t like the way they look at you,
I don’t like the way they talk to,
I don’t like the way they talk to you.
I wouldn’t let 'em talk to you like that.

Put 'em up high, reach for the ceiling.
Tell them that I'ma walk, damn it, I'm real,
And it ain't no crime, it's just dreams we’re stealing -
Anything to get more of this feeling

You take the high and I'll take the low,
We'll get there before you know.
We ain't got no time to waste,
We got too much life to taste.

We're like Romeo and Juliet,
And 40 dogs, cigarettes,
We're like good times that haven’t happened yet but will.
And I can tell you where we're gonna be
When the whole world falls to the sea:
We’ll be livin’ ever after, happily.

Sometimes you remind me of a moonbeam,
On the ghost of a moonbeam out on the beach,
Down by the coast, slip into Manila,
Like the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

Come out tonight, come out with me, baby.
We'll throw the careful into the crazy,
Turn the sky black into a sky blue,
Turn the close shave into a hoo-hoo.
What I say is true, make a fire, gotta burn a few,
Make a fire, gotta burn a few,
We can do what we want to do.

We're like Romeo and Juliet, 40 dogs, cigarettes,
We're like good times that haven’t happened yet but will.
I can tell you where we're gonna be
When the whole world falls to the sea:
We’ll be livin’ ever after, happily.


It's a free download at Amazon.com (as of Feb 17, 2010)

paranormal frEaktivity!

E watched Paranormal Activity tonight. Paid 4.99 to Comcast OnDemand to watch, and simultaneously burn to DVD. This was one SCARY movie! I was totally freaked! I had to go online to assure myself that this movie was a fake.

Having done that [as well as taking a dose of GABA and 5HTP] I'll now be able to get some sleep.

Really! For a fake documentary I was on the verge of sleeplessness-- and I need all the sleep I can get going into this very long and tiresome week ahead.

About halfway through this movie I looked at my roommate and said, 'What that chick needs is Jesus! No way a demon's going to get the best of her with the Holy Spirit taking up residence!'

What made this movie so scary for me? I had the luxury of knowing nothing about the film prior to viewing. Even now knowing it's a fake, it's so well done it's still creeping me out.

all systems are go

Lunch in less than an hour. With her

midwEek brain dump

When will I learn my lesson? Caffeine, bad! I have a splitting headache all because I love that damned raspberry tea at Sonic. I'll pull in of a morning just to get the Route 44 version... nothing else. I know caffeine is bad, but do I stop drinking tea? no. I know high-fructose corn syrup is uber bad, but do I stop drinking sodas? not entirely. I guess I'll have to end up with a brain tumor before I actually say goodbye for good.

The headache is not as bad as it could be. I've had the kind that leaves you drooling on the pillow, and your eyes throbbing with each beat of your heart. Those are scary headaches. I'm paying for it today, but thankfully I'm only getting the happy meal version. Here's my headache poem...

The Rhythm of Pain

Despondency danced a bitter turn
Each step attuned to the rhythm of pain
And ague ~ Oh, what an insistent pill
A tyranny desirous of a last resort
Where pain is safely put to bed
Clubbed mercilessly and staining the sheet
One pill ~ One retreat and saving grace
And despondency cleansed and senseless in the surf


ELAshley
062006.063721.6
75 minutes of brain-cramping toil
...and a migraine in the wings

More poetry can be found at the Muslin Opaque

* * *

I'm building a 2010 politics page for the station. Regional stuff primarily. I hate having to go through the station's "Clickability" platform. I'd prefer to just build it the way I want it to look, but now it's becoming increasingly clear that I'll have no choice but to use Clickability.

For what it's designed to do, it does make things a lot simpler, but it doesn't allow for any real creativity within a company standards paradigm.

Here's the banner I built for the page. Click on the image to see it full size.

* * *

Lunch tomorrow with my lunch buddy. Assuming, of course, nothing comes up. I've been unlucky of late getting her to a restaurant.

I saw her at the "Spotlight on Business" expo at the Civic Center yesterday afternoon. She's as beautiful as ever.

I have no doubt she'll be just as beautiful tomorrow.

dEarest Mary Angel

I saw her today for the first time in five weeks. She smiled and hugged me; she was genuinely happy to see me. I complimented her, told her she looked beautiful. She asked if something was wrong with my eyes. I told her she was a sight for sore eyes. And I told her she WAS beautiful. And she was.

We were to have lunch last Friday, but she couldn't break away from clients. We were to meet yesterday, but she was stuck in Enterprise awaiting a transmission repair. We are to meet Thursday, and it is my hope nothing will prevent our meeting.

I like her too much. Far too much. I will only get hurt in the end, but I do not care. I have to try. You can't spend your winnings unless you buy a ticket, right? She knows I like her, but she doesn't turn me away; she continues to encourage me. She's said things to others that indicate she is interested. Or was five weeks ago.

I had a conversation with the other Eric today. Prescott. He laughs to see how bad I have it for her, but he understands. He's not mocking. He listens and offers advice. He says she knows how I feel. And to be patient. I confided to him that even should nothing come of my infatuation-- should she and I never advance beyond the occasional lunch --I would still rather have that relationship that the one I now have. At least with her I feel alive and valued and listened to. I feel alive around her. I can speak my mind. I don't have to hide who I am; I can speak freely without fear of laughter or rejection. She likes who I am... enough to share the occasional lunch with me.

I want to ask her for more... a movie or dinner. But I'm not free to date. Not until I'm on my own. We were supposed to see a movie last month but never got around to it. Just as friends. She hates to see movies alone, as do I. I could use a best friend, and I wouldn't mind if it turned out to be her. Even if that's all we ever became.

As I said. I like her too much. But I can't help myself. I waited twenty years for one woman to say 'yes.' And in the end she has made it clear she doesn't want to marry... not me, not anyone. I want to belong to someone; I want to be happy. And as I said, even should nothing develop us, at least with this beautiful and vibrant woman I'll learn once more how to socialize-- how to befriend and be befriended.

I finally feel as though this ship I'm on can actually get somewhere; that winds will actually fill its sails, and its prow carve a path across this seemingly interminable sea. I've been a long time rocked upon its merciless surface, and I'm looking forward to dry land. I'm looking forward to someone who won't balk at one day putting a ring on my finger-- whoever and wherever she may be.

God be with you and yours,

All my love,

Eric

to fair beautiful disappointment

I was to have lunch today with the incomparable woman that is my lunch buddy. I haven't seen her in over a month, and I miss her terribly. First she postponed for a later lunch because of clients, then she called to say she couldn't break away. I ate at two. I ate alone.

Though I have no right to, or expectations that she should feel the same, I miss her all the same. And secretly wish there were more to our infrequent meetings than lunch and friendship.

I give too much away, and should erase that last line... but won't. I'm a man: I have eyes, a heart, and my heart likes what it sees. And feels.

I should erase that last bit too...

But won't.

the greatest love poems of all time: #4

A Decade

When you came, you were like red wine and honey.
And the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.
Now you are like morning bread,
Smooth and pleasant.
I hardly taste you at all, for I know your savor,
But I am completely nourished.

--Amy Lowell

I've written a few myself, though no one has thought to label them as "Greatest of all Time." I like this one because it's succinct; it says what it has to say without grandiosity.

"dEsigning" Christmas Cool

I'm attached to a movie project as a graphic artist. It's strictly pro bono since it's a church project and this is their first foray into long-form media... of any kind. No money this go-around, but should a second film be in the offing, I could see some compensation. I have already designed the company logo and it's already in use. Now, assuming I continue with the project, I'll be designing a film logo and poster. I already have a music credit to my name, it'd be cool to have a film credit as well.

I say, 'assuming I continue' because I sent a letter last night to the man running the show... writer, director Wayne Patterson. He's a great guy. The only problem I have is the lack of communication and too many chiefs deciding what is and is not muster-passing artwork. The letter below doesn't address the lack of communication because, for me, that's the least of the two issues. In the business I work I only have to please three people: the Client, the Sales Agent, and my Supervisor. In that order. If I had to please the entire building I'd never get anything done. Capiche?

In response to Wayne's "I sent you an email yesterday and haven't heard back. I need to know how to proceed with the project" email, Here then is my reply in full...

Apologies Wayne,

My plate at work has been very full lately. I spoke with Brenda this morning about the project and I am very much interested in continuing. I do have time on weekends and some nights to devote to this project.

As to the logo, I'm still unclear about what you want and, more to the point, what you want the logo to do-- what kind of message do you want it to send? Typically logos are short and sweet; a simple image or design that encapsulates a larger idea or theme. Working where you do you know this to be true; the Toyota logo is universally identifiable. Movie logos are obviously different, but not markedly so, and they are more text-based of a necessity.

The designs you sent yesterday are nice, but I just don't see how they translate to a logo. A poster, yes, but not a logo. I will give you whatever you want. And if that's all you want me for-- I'm happy to do it. But I wonder why you would need a graphic artist for that.

I've thought a lot about your vision in terms of the design-- specifically the poster --and here's an idea I've been thinking about. I like the backgrounds you've been using, but I'd prefer to build something similar from scratch, something that will convey the same feel. I like the silhouette idea as well, but I personally would avoid any structure in terms of the silhouettes being attached to black columns or any geometric shapes. And since one of this film's biggest features is the Big Band sound, I would love to see a similar silhouetted figure of Denver blowing his horn in the foreground below and to the left of the actors silhouettes which would, of course, be much larger than little boy blue blowing his horn.

You also need to think of verbiage. What do you want the poster to say? What message? Because whatever message you decide upon must be incorporated into the design. The message needs to become part of the design... the two elements need to be in harmony. The design must be able to absorb the text without diminishing it's message. Make sense?

As to the logo, please think about what message/feeling you want it to convey. Upbeat? Serious? Dramatic? Musical? And think about text. The logo can and should incorporate some measure of design other than text, but... simple is better; a 'less is more' approach. Remember the clip you showed us all from "The Matrix"? The Logo was displayed prominently at the very beginning and, although it was a purely textual logo, the design lent itself to a specific impression... computer code. Same thing with the movie "300" -- strictly text, but red and violent. "Ice Age"? strictly text, but comedic and frigid.

Forgive me if I sound like I'm trying to run your show. Truly I'm not. I've been an artist all my life. God gave it to me. Something else He gave me was a stubborn streak-- I've worked very hard to curb it, and not always successfully. I just want you to know that I can color in the lines if you want me to, but I prefer less constraint.

I want to be a part of this project, and I guess I've said all this to say, are you sure you want me? Because I've obviously got an independent streak. I'm willing to work with you and the rest of the team. If I'm being asked to do a job, my work needs to meet someone's approval, that only makes sense. But does it have to meet everyone's approval? You are that person, or so I've been led to believe. It's your vision. So, if I have to pass everyone's muster this will become an unnecessarily difficult process.

No! :) My feelings weren't hurt with the rejection of the last logo I sent. What surprised me was how many people had a say in whether or not it was good enough. At WTVY I have, basically, three people to impress: The Client, The Sales Rep, and my Supervisor... in that order. If I had to please everyone in the building I'd never finish a single project.

My heart is open to you. I've poured it out in honesty toward you. I want to be a part. My desire is perfection, however impossible that may turn out to be, but my concern is too many chiefs making the job you're asking me to do just as impossible.

At this late stage in the game, storyboards are not something I have time for. But I do have time, and more to spare, for the logo and poster. I'm also willing to take part in actual filming when it starts up in earnest. In fact, I'd LOVE to be a part of that.

You say you need to know how to proceed. I've shown you my heart in this, so do me a favor and pray on this. If in a few days you still feel led to include me, I will consider it both and honor and blessing to continue walking with you.

Can two walk together, except they be agreed?

Amos 3:3

My prayers are with you whatever you decide

May God richly bless you

Yours in Christ



Eric Ashley

I had to write that letter. I didn't like doing it because I know how it sounds, and it's not my desire to strike back with criticism. "They" didn't like the logo I sent last November? Fine. I have to start from scratch a lot at work. Like the current Health Care debate, sometimes it's better to just start all over from the beginning. So, If Wayne still wants me to work on this project I will. But I had to lay out some ground rules. I need assurance that I'll only be asked to impress a bare minimum of people-- what do script supervisors know of graphic design? Especially script supervisors who've never before supervised a script?

Artists are touchy. Ask anyone who has to work with them. Ask Dennis, a friend of mine, who is in contact, almost daily, with members of the Country Music Industry. I'd bet my next paycheck he could tell you some stories.

I do good work. I want to continue to do good work. But if I'm constantly fretting about what the caterer is going to think about my designs, then my passion becomes muted... dampened... and it'll show in both my enthusiasm for the project and the quality of work I deliver. What kind of cake would I bake if everyone got to throw an ingredient into my batter? I wouldn't want to eat it.

And this is where EL stands in his first movie production. I know I'm in the credits already, but I'd rather see the project all the way through. I joined up at the beginning, I'd like to still be there at the end.

And that's all I got to say about that.

The film, by the way, is entitled "Writing Christmas Cool"

~Fine~

though I do not yet know her name

I was thinking recently, with the turn of another year, on the desert loneliness that is the sound of most Jackson Browne songs; how free he is to sing as though he were speaking-- straight language and ideas without the usual short-lined verses of metaphor and innuendo that populate most lyrics these days. So I began to write, hearing Jackson Browne sing my song, his voice to my lyrics and melody. This is the result.


Afire For You

I I've been alone long, and a dreamer
For most of my life
Though I desire soft clean linens I'll still
Sleep in the desert tonight
Another night of tossing and turning
Another night of sleeping alone
And when the morning light comes to find me
Though every hour spent trying to atone
I'm still very much alone

II Chasing sleep down long corridors
Seems that's all I ever do
All I'm ever left with come daybreak
Are my fitful dreams of you
Another night beneath the cold desert sky
Another night of sleeping alone
Every morning that comes only serving to remind me
Despite every hour spent trying to atone
I'm still very much alone

O, And how I've wandered
How I've carried this torch for you
Never looked in your eyes, never made to ponder
How my love for you strengthened and grew
Though I be cut to the bone
And suffer to atone
I'll always very much alone

III When I close my eyes and dream of you
While sleeping deeply through this night
The stars wheeling 'cross the glittering sky
And making love til the morning light
How do you leave the bed you've made with love
Shoulder your pack and continue to roam?
'Cause I've spent my life, all my sins to atone
Yet I'm still very much alone

O, And how I've wandered
How I've carried this torch for you
Never looked in your eyes, never kissed your soft smile
Yet my love for you strengthened and grew
Though I be cut to the bone
Giving my life to atone
I'll still be very much alone

If there's an angel set to observe me
Dogging my e-ver-y step
Could he have not seen fit
To lead me out of the desert
And into your loving arms?
O, Into your loving arms

With my heart on fire for you
My heart afire for you



ELAshley
Part I - 010210.11>.6
Part II - 010410.11>.6
Part III - 010810.11>.6
Revisions:
011210.111002.6

This was written for someone specific, though I do not yet know her name.

day one

2009 had been perhaps the most depressing year of my life. I hope to change that this year. My game plan is still a bit undefined at present, but at least it's something I'm actively dwelling on. A few goals for this year:

• Move out into my own place
• Find someone with whom I can spend next Christmas & New Years Eve
• Care more about myself by getting into shape

That's enough to keep me busy without becoming overwhelmed. They're ambitious financial goals, all three. There's lots to do and only so much cash each payday to do it with, but I am determined to see it through.

As to the first, I worry that with my poor credit rating I won't be able to find a decent apartment to rent. I also worry about the start-up costs of actually moving in: deposit, first month's rent, dog deposit, electric deposit. Then there are the other costs, mostly for peace of mind, such as an emergency fund of at least five-hundred, a washer and dryer, and enough cash to move into a new place should such a move become necessary-- always have an exit strategy.

Though not on the list, reliable transportation is part and parcel with moving out. I have to be able to see to my transportation needs when the car must stay in the shop. I'd like a new vehicle, but short of a three to four thousand dollar annual increase, that's not going to happen anytime soon. And, of course, there's the question of my poor credit rating.

Part two on my list of things to do this year can only begin, let alone be accomplished, upon completion of the first. I cannot expect any woman to accept me while still living where I am. It is undeniably true that my present "living arrangement" has own her room and her own bed, and I never see anything intimate in the relationship, but I can't expect any woman to believe it. Besides which, the woman I AM interested in... well, I've already told her I couldn't be anything more than a friend until such a time as I am living on my own. And this is a difficult woman to pin down on anything.

I admitted some time ago that I have a tendency to chase women who are emotionally unavailable, and this woman of whom I speak is just such a one. She too is in a similar spot as I am, pining for a man who's just not into her... kinda like where I am right now, though I'm not pining; I've given up, in fact. Given up trying to love someone who has no desire to ever make an honest man of me. She wants to be affectionate but I'm lost all interest in kisses and such. I'd rather they came from someone else; someone who can look at me and see someone worth drawing INTO her arms, not holding me at arms length.

Lastly, there's caring more about myself. This will involve aspects of spiritual, emotional, and physical well-being. I have neglected myself in all three areas for far too long. I weigh 260 now, and need to drop to 200, minimum. I need to draw closer to the Lord, and I need to believe in myself far more than I ever have before.

I've also noticed some changes in my body's function that needs acute attention. I am not one to seek medical attention, so I will first attempt the avenues I preach to everyone else and seek natural holistic approaches to a short list of problems. I will see a doctor this summer for a prostate exam, but that will be the extent of it. On the off chance cancer should be found I will NOT take chemo or radiation treatments. I will do what many others have done to combat the problem... and I will live. Also along this line, I'm making a list of books I'll need... a tidy stack of them.

And there it is. Not resolutions so much as a short list of resolves.

Finally, at some point, I have to ascertain whether what I'm feeling toward a certain someone is genuine or not, and whether she reciprocates. Or not.

a poem for the new yEar

She Held My Hand

I dreamt last night she held my hand
and it was as if the world caught fire
though the conflagration grew she did not let go
and i beheld her
as she held my hand

She was a sun and my heart caught
in a timeless ring ~ ever pure and without end
the hairs upon my skin stood with new awareness
as i beheld her
her hand in mine

Her smile soft and contentedly pleased
opened windows long sealed curtained and dim
my heart like a box unlocked and opened at last
to behold her
and her hand in mine

Is there gold or honey left in the world
for all the sweetness and light of her pretty soft hair
or turquoise remaining for the blue in her eyes
as her i beheld
and her holding my hand?

The feel of her, the touch of her
the endless and momentary sense of knowing for true
no vision could more rival perfection
than the loveliness i beheld
she holding my hand


Do i think, do i dwell too much upon a dream?
or do i reach, eyes still filled with morning sands
        for flesh and blood? for her?

I must, or be a fool
For i dreamt last night she held my hand
and why should dreams not desire her as well?


ELAshley
123109.115826.6
As my muse she would be amused
should she ever read these silly lines

e's yEar-end brain dump

It has been a year of epiphanies. A year of hope. A year of change. It has been a year of desolate heartache and a year of light. It has been a candle floating upon a turbulent sea, lit in spite of the storm because no storm could ever put this candle out.

It has been a return to dreams and dreaming; something I've not done in a very long while-- not that I remember, of course. I've begun to dream again. And what better way to ring out the decade? After all, it has been a dark decade and it's getting darker still, but in the midst of the darkness is that candle. Hope... and the promise of change. No not the kind Obama promised, but rather real change; the kind you know is real because you effected it-- You set the stage, you set the ball to rolling, and the top to spinning. Not some ephemeral promise that things will get better, but instead the change you make for yourself.

That is where I find myself on the last day of this year.


I spoke just now of dreams? I had a dream two weeks ago that is still playing in vivid living color... I dreamt she held my hand. I dreamt I reached for her, and she took my hand and did not let go.

You can't imagine how wonderful that was, to wake up and remember that, even though a mere dream, someone thought enough of me to hold my hand. The trick now is to make that vision a reality. I don't know who she'll end up being, but I know she's there.

* * *

I've changed twice now in little more than a year. Same company, different posts therein. If anything, I can attribute my new ability to dream, in no small part, to these changes. Sit in one place too long and walls begin to climb about you. You don't see them but you can certainly sense them, they're the sure knowledge-- understood as such or not --that you're being penned in, that some force is keeping you from being what you were meant to be. Think of the feed lots, how the cattle are confined and forced to dine on a diet contradictory to their nature. That's you. Taught to eat from a trough when you were created to graze freely. That's the way I've felt for good many years.

But that all changed this year. I've been thrust out of the lot, and made to roam... so to speak. I'm not yet comfortable with my new station, but I'm getting there. I've had to make adjustments; some painful, some absolutely delightful.

One, both painful and a bittersweet (at present) kind of joy, is the decision I made to get out of a relationship of 20 years; one that has gone nowhere despite all my efforts to see it bear fruit. Knowing she doesn't wish to marry me hurts more than I can ever express, but I also feel at peace with my decision. I'm out of practice socializing with women, but I'm looking forward to it. I, like everyone else on the planet, just want to be loved. And if one woman doesn't want me, there's someone else out there who does. I just need to find her.

I've become more introspective this year, which is either an utter amazement or extremely distressing depending on your point of view, since I have already been a deeply introspective person for these past thirty-five years. I'm not sure what that portends but it's been a personally noticeable change. There's more of a determination than ever before to build a bulwark of personal honor and self-determination; to project strength in who I am in relation to the rest of the world. There was none of that twenty years ago. None whatsoever.

How this will stead me in the months ahead? I can't say. But everywhere I turn I get, and am given, encouragement... inducement to keep moving forward. And that's what I'll do.

For now, I need to begin work on my New Year poem. I've thought about it all week, and now it's time to begin writing.


i will find
and you will find
and we shall find together here
underneath the bunker...

But that's not really how it goes, is it? Like the song to which you thought you knew the lyrics, only to discover you had it wrong all those years.

i will hide
and you will hide
and we shall hide together here
underneath the bunker...

--REM

I like my version better.

riddles to make one think

What's the difference between a military engineer and a civil engineer?

          A military engineer builds missiles. A civil engineer builds targets.


What do you call a medical student who graduates last in his class?

          Doctor.

my own personal midlife crisis: doomed to solitude

To reiterate. Every thought, image, and response has a musical connection. Some songs resonate more than others, and that is where the "soundtrack of one's life" meme is rooted. But some songs resonate more than others. For me, I can recite that litany of songs which truly, madly, deeply reverberate through my soul, on a single hand.

Pain, or so it seems to me, is the foundation of genuine worldly beauty. Beauty is an expression of defiance against that which would crush us, would we but allow it. There is nothing remarkable about a straight line-- a straight line is unremarkable in a forest of conformity. But curve that line... well then, that's something new altogether. Where pure pleasure is the straight line, pain then is the curve.

Take Celtic music for instance, or the vocal stylizings of groups like Ladysmith Black Mambazo. Cultures which have experienced oppression and suffering sing with a heart that seeks to rise above the pain... whether they realize it or not-- the pain creeps into their musical expression, and however straight-lined their words, their vocals and instruments speak in curves.

And so here I am, long story short, to the point of my own life's soundtrack, and one song from that one hand that has reverberated through my soul for thirty-four years. I've made mention of it here (or elsewhere... I know I've written about this song somewhere), but at the risk of appearing unduly obsessive I return to Yer Blues by the Beatles.

Why bother mentioning it all? Well, I came across a review of the song online and felt compelled to comment upon it.

First the lyrics:

Yes I'm lonely. Wanna die
Yes I'm lonely. Wanna die
If I ain't dead already
Woo, girl you know the reason why.

In the morning. Wanna die
In the evening. Wanna die
If I ain't dead already
Woo, girl you know the reason why.

My mother was of the sky
My father was of the earth
But I am of the universe
And you know what it's worth
I'm lonely. Wanna die
If I ain't dead already
Woo, girl you know the reason why.

The eagle picks my eye
The worm he licks my bones
I feel so suicidal
Just like Dylan's Mr. Jones
Lonely. Wanna die
If I ain't dead already
Woo, girl you know the reason why.

Black cloud crossed my mind
Blue mist round my soul
Feel so suicidal
Even hate my rock and roll
Wanna die. Yeah, wanna die
If I ain't dead already
Woo, girl you know the reason why.

Depressing, right? Suicidal, even? But why? And why does it resonate in my soul? Well, here's one reviewer's thoughts on the song:

For all that chatter about The Beatles predicting the band members' solo work, only two of its Lennon tracks would be of a piece with his Plastic Ono Band, arguably the defining post-Beatles disc. One is the muted, tender "Julia"; the other, the searing, spooky "Yer Blues"...

Following in the grand blues tradition of women doing wrong and leaving a man in pain often simply by leaving him, Lennon seethes in heartbreak. But his introspection (call it his utter self-absorption) turns the misdeed inward, and the song focuses on his reactions rather than whatever wrong she supposedly committed. This is not a revenge story, or an attack on an unfaithful woman. This is instead an attack on the man who, through some or many unspecified flaws, doomed himself to solitude.

—Charles Hohman

And this is the key phrase, for me:

This is instead an attack on the man who, through some or many unspecified flaws, doomed himself to solitude.

This is about what one feels about himself, not what someone else has done to him. And I reckon this speaks as much about my life as it did, perhaps, about his... Lennon's.

I remember a task I set for Mary Angel as her sponsor into Iota Gamma's "Little Sister" program; circa 1983. It was common for the brothers to set an impossible task for their charges, and I, thinking myself clever, asked Mary Angel to bring to me the lyrics to my favorite song, giving her only one clue... "My father was of the earth."

I thought I was clever, but I was outdone by an intellect far cleverer than my own. She called my little sister and asked what my favorite band was. Easy! she was told-- The Beatles. It then became a search for which song held that particular line. Now this was 1983; no PC's worth a flip, no Google, no world wide web to really speak of, so my sister begins to play all my Beatles albums, song by song, until they hit upon a winner.

Mary Angel was NOT pleased by the song I called "my favorite." Not pleased at all. But without going into too much detail-- long story short --I gave her no context so she had no way of knowing why that song, as tragic in tone as it is, was my favorite. And truth be told, I never considered the reason myself till much later.

As a young child I was constantly uprooted and thrust into new situations, new schools, new friends... new bullies who saw in my stuttering reason enough to make my life more and more miserable. I learned very early to simply keep quiet and not draw too much attention to myself.

So here I am years later, 21, maybe 22 years old. I've asked out the moderately attractive Kathleen Tremblay. I've picked her up, and taken her to a party. While there she pretty much dumps me and begins making out with someone else. I leave. Without her. And I go to a place I routinely frequent when I wish to be alone. It's a small but long pier on St. Andrews Bay.

It's dark. Only a sliver of moon in the sparsely clouded night sky. I take out a knife. Put it's tip to the right side of my chest and slash downward. And a second time, but without much enthusiasm. I throw the knife out to sea, stagger back to my car and drive home. I'm covered in blood so I take a shower. Excruciating pain! I bandage myself, and go to bed.

How do you tell your family you did something like that to yourself? I couldn't. I told my father I was attacked on the beach.

There was no trip to the hospital. Just a jar of sulfur to pack the wound to keep it from getting infected. What I got was one big ass scar, and more isolation from people I considered friends. The scar was quite noticeable for many years, but has since faded. The memory however has not, nor do I expect it to.

This was not an attack on the girl who broke my heart but was instead, "an attack on the man [myself] who, through some or many unspecified flaws, doomed himself to solitude." I attacked myself for some unknown, unseen, unfathomed flaws that kept me single, and without friendship or intimacy from girls.

Here's one major distinction between my own experience and that of the song in question. I was not suicidal-- I had absolutely no intention of killing myself. Had that been the case I could have easily pushed the knife straight in. Instead I slightly dimpled the flesh of my chest inward and swiftly sliced down... not in. I did not want to kill myself. What I wanted was to externalize the pain I felt in my heart.

And so this is my fear... my own personal midlife crisis... that I am doomed to solitude; that I will never find love... never share my life with a woman who loves me.

* * *

This song resonates with me. It didn't before that evening. Nor did it resonate for many years after. But today, after years of swimming in the soup of "some or many" of my own "unspecified flaws" it has come to carry a great deal of weight in the soundtrack of my life.

I am 49 years old, and still Solitude Standing. I've waited twenty years for a woman to say "yes" to marriage only to realize at last that she doesn't wish to marry anyone, let alone me.

So I'm moving on. Suicide was never an option... has never crossed my mind-- it's simply not who I am. But I'd be a liar if I said I didn't suffer a modicum of despair over having reached the heliopause of 50 and still single; having wasted the last twenty years on someone who chooses not to love or be loved.

What is left for me to do now? Accept what is and move on. And never give up looking for someone who will love who and what I am in spite of who and what I am not.

There. It's out. Welcome to my midlife crisis.

outliving the culture

"You spend your life fighting depression; it's the default human condition. The shit we buy, the people we hang around with, fuck and even love are just means to an end, a way to stave off the crushing loneliness that is to be alone and unloved.

"We buy into the idea of happiness as portrayed by the mass media, that happiness is found through social engagement, through the expenditure of the money we earn working for multi-millionaires that don't know us, don't care. If we live or die, we haven't made a mark on the world.

"We check Facebook compulsively, Twitter about our breakfasts and talk to our friends and coworkers about wild parties, prospective mates and expensive purchases: Attempts to show our sociability, our ability to fit in, our willingness to buy into this great corporate dream.

"If you want my advice, write something. Draw something. Tell someone something. Do something, ANYTHING, that will outlive this culture, that will transcend its boundaries and touch someone."

There is but one way I know of to outlive this culture, and that is to free yourself from this culture; do not let it shape you, do not let it affect you spiritually; do not let it define your soul's focus or path. You must rise above-- or transcend, as the anonymous writer exhorts --the ugliness that is this life. How do you do that? Choose for yourself who you are and what relevance you hold not only for yourself but for the world. Choose your legacy-- define it, quantify it, then build it. You can't escape the culture, but you can certainly outlive it.

In case you had forgotten, You are free. That's right, FREE. Now go out there and act like it. Go out and tell the world who you are. Don't let the world tell YOU who you are.