Can It Get Any Darker?

I don’t know why it is but sometimes, out of nowhere, a sudden dark cloud descends upon me. I’ll just be going about my normal every day routine and something hits me like a ton of bricks and I’ll start to tear up. I mentioned it to my therapist and I guess it’s something we’ll delve into more in the future. It’s a pretty strange thing about my seeing someone in that capacity. I feel like I need to be there more often than I am. I think that if the insurance would pay for it, I’d try to see her at least one more time a week. I don’t know what it is but I can do a complete blowout there and not feel uncomfortable doing it. I’m pretty much an open book about who I am and what I’m about but she finds the things I’m still keeping under wraps and it doesn’t bother me in the least when she asks about them. It’s really comfortable there.

I’m not gonna lie, my staying in Michigan, in large part, was because of how I felt while talking to her. I had just started seeing her and was on the verge of moving and began feeling that there was too much unfinished business with her. I’ve been to more therapists than you can imagine and this is the first one who’s simple diagnosis isn’t “Well, you shouldn’t feel that way”. She puts a great deal of emphasis on my writing as therapy and feels it’s the real catalyst to my feeling better. We talk a lot about this new life I’ve become a part of and she seems to get why it’s so hard for me to deal with. I think her biggest task is to help me understand what it is about myself that I find so hard to like.

I am absolutely convinced that if I were someone else, and met me, I wouldn’t want to be friends with me. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about that. I know, most people have things about them they would like to change or simply wish wasn’t a part of their makeup. I, on the other hand, am constantly looking for that one thing I wouldn’t change. I’m mostly talking about my mental makeup. I can’t explain it but it’s obviously why I’m having such a hard time dealing with this influx of friends I’ve attained over the last number of months. It’s also why I have such a problem when folks talk to me about my writing.

I spend a great deal of time talking about this with my, for lack of a better word, shrink. The only answer I can give her when she asks why it’s so hard to believe someone would be interested in listening to what I have to say or want to be around me is the simple belief that, to put it bluntly, I’m a dick. I find myself, for instance, reading something I’ve written and wonder if any of it is real. I mean can anybody be such a downer? Do I just imagine these thoughts and write them down? Worst of all, I sometimes wonder if it’s all just to get some attention.

I was writing back and forth with one of these new friends and told her what makes it seem so strange to me. Why would I open myself up so much to the world and invite them all in to this insane thought process of mine, when the moment they attempt to get close enough to see inside I close the doors and windows and bring as many walls between them and I that I possibly could. Again, something my once a week friend and I are talking about.

I think that dark cloud has spent enough time with me this evening. It’s time to take an Ambien and try to sleep it off. I’m really tired.

The Heart Of The Matter

I’ve been writing this blog for right around three years now. What started as a letter to the editor of a local newspaper has become, oddly enough, one of the two or three major items in my life. I never had any intention of writing anything after the letter, though I must admit, I loved seeing it in print the next day. I was fascinated by the emotions and comments other readers had about my beliefs on the subject I wrote in about. (It was a pro gay marriage piece). I created the blog only because I wanted my friends and family to see the letter and it was the easiest way to do that.

I think I continued writing simply out of loneliness. I had been recently divorced, living in Florida with nobody to talk to except my dog and the computer. I would write about politics, music and eventually, me. I found that if something was bothering me either personally or emotionally, I would be able to breathe a little easier once I released it into this virtual world we’ve all started to live in. It was relatively easy to get real personal on it because I was in a place where nobody knew me and the family and friends around the country couldn’t see me. I loved the anonymity of it all.

I started to branch out a little and told a few people I worked with and the few friends I had down there about it and would send them the link whenever I would post something new. It was pretty cool getting feedback from them about what I was writing about. There were very few posts that were personal so it was pretty easy listening to what they had to say. If I did get deep at all it would be about my youth or friends I had in Michigan. I would also write about the many years I lived in California. Again, they really couldn’t relate so I still maintained that anonymity factor.

When I moved to Michigan my writing seemed, at least to me, to make a natural progression. I started writing more and more about my feelings and got deeper and deeper into myself. I was still pretty much alone friend wise, I mean, I had a few friends and would come down to the Detroit area once or twice a month to do things with them but nobody that would ever read or comment about the blog. It was very safe and I spent a little over a year in Michigan staying in my little corner and writing while still in a hiding place that never made me answer to those that had been a part of my life all those years ago. I know this sounds ridiculous but since getting to know all these folks again I somehow feel like I almost have to please them with the things I write and that, literally, scares me to death.

I don’t write because I want to. I don’t write because I think I have something to say that matters. I write because I have to. Again, I know how outlandish that sounds but it’s so true. It’s my Xanax. I write to feel better. I get this nervousness in me or an excitement in me or any kind of feeling that can cause any kind of pressure and all I can think of at that time is that I have to get to my keyboard. It’s my crack as it were. Under most circumstances writing is not a pleasant time for me. When I do the digging into myself that I do it’s incredibly uncomfortable. I run through the entire gamut of emotions from anger to tears and even laughter. I can’t tell you how many times, while writing something, I have to stop for a minute and compose myself. It’s the type of pain that you feel when you have a bad tooth. You know it’s going to hurt if you put your tongue on it but you keep doing it anyways.

I have many readers that I do not know. I’ve received emails from literally all over the world talking about something I’ve posted. I always like the comments and the feedback. Once again, I would still be hidden away because I had no idea who was writing so if I wrote something they didn’t like it wouldn’t matter. Now that I’ve reconnected with all these people that I knew as a kid, the readership has grown accordingly. It also means that I now know many of those that read my stuff and who’s writing the comments.

There are many positive things about the whole idea of friends reading about me and my problems. There are also many things about it that I’m not so sure about. These friends are now seeing a part of me they’ve never seen before. I’m showing a vulnerability that is rarely shown by people in my age group. If someone reads my writing and hasn’t seen me in many years they must think I’m this totally morose character that rarely smiles. When I’m out and about with people that I know have read my stuff I can’t help but feel a bit odd. Almost like there are expectations. It really is a strange feeling.

I know this sounds like I think I’m some major voice, please believe me, I don’t. In fact, I have an incredibly hard time thinking anyone really cares about what I write about. It kinda freaks me out when someone tells me that something I’ve posted has touched him or her in any way. To think that I have created something that means something to others is something I’m not sure I can grasp. It simply makes no sense to me. I look and see that some folks have actually bought the books I’ve finished and it’s rather embarrassing. What could they possibly get out of my bitching and moaning about my life? This is one of those two plus two equal five type things. I just can’t figure it out and it sometimes truly overwhelms me.

So the obvious question is why post the things I do? It’s really hard to explain. I have to, I know that makes no sense but it’s like therapy to me. After I’ve written something and posted it the weight on my chest is much lighter. I can breathe again. It makes me feel real and whole and that’s something I need to do, feel real and whole.

Ticking

I was driving up to East Lansing the other night and was tired of listening to the satellite radio, by the way, they seem to have the same play lists we used to listen to and get tired of when we were kids. Anyway, I grabbed a cd and was listening to it for a while when the song “Ticking” by Elton John came on. I’m not going to explain the song to you, if you know it, great, if not, it’s on the playlist to the right of the blog you’re reading. Again, anyway, it got me thinking about situations similar to that talked about in the song. There’s a part of the song that goes:

“So what was it that brought the squad cars
Screaming up your drive.
To notify your parents of the manner
In which you died.”

It got me thinking about the parents of those that commit these horrendous crimes we seem to have a monopoly on here in this country. I know, stuff happens in other countries too, but let’s be honest with ourselves here, it happens here more than anywhere else.

Let’s lose the percentage of those that kill that come from abusive families and things of that ilk, I understand that extenuating circumstances and social environment play a big part in this kind of stuff, not excusing it, just willing to understand it for my current purpose. I want to talk about the ones that come from families like yours and mine. They’re out there by the hundreds, maybe thousands.

The thing that really gets to me is the parents of those that do these things. Can you imagine what the emotion was the moment they found out what their offspring had done? I mean, look at the parents of the two kids that did the Columbine thing. Seemingly decent families, parents at work one day and they get this phone call telling them that their child, their baby has just done the most unspeakable thing you can possibly think of. I just find that amazing.

My kids were no angels, who’s are? But never in my wildest dreams would I expect that type of call or knock on the door. It’s every parent’s nightmare. I remember a time when the police knocked on our door in the middle of the night and the sheer panic that Shelly and I felt until we were assured that nobody was hurt and that all they needed was for us to drive up to a park where our son was with some friends past curfew so we could drive him home.

You raise your kids as well as you can and you hope for the best. I don’t believe any parent, well any of the type I’m talking about, doesn’t want and expect their kids to grow up to be productive citizens. Yet these things happen and, as we should, we always focus on the victims of these senseless crimes. I think I’m of the opinion that the family of the criminal is also a victim. No, not in the same way but they’ve also just lost a family member.

In my mind, I keep going back to the Columbine shootings. Not only their neighbors but also society as a whole have ostracized the Klebold and Harris families. All they did, and I’m not downplaying it, was not pay attention to their kids all the time. It’s easy, as non-victims, to say they should have known more or seen the signals but I think that’s ridiculous. Honestly, if you’re the parents of teens do you really know what they’re doing all the time? If you say yes to that then you’re blinder than any of these folks I’m talking about.

Yes I weep for the victims of these types of crimes, as we all should, I also feel just as bad for the families of those that committed the crime. They’ve also just lost their child, their baby and for some their very reason for being. These things are tragedies on so many levels. Don’t think for a second that the Klebold or Harris families didn’t love their kids, and don’t pretend that these families aren’t just as victimized by the terror brought upon us by their children. Imagine what it’d be like to turn on the news one day and see your child as the perpetrator. I kind of get the feeling that your legs would give out on you, you’d lose the ability to breathe for a bit and your life would be changed just as much, if not more, as the victims families simply because it’s your child that caused this pain in so many.

It's getting Better All The Time

I’m in the new place and have started the new job. I won’t have furniture for another week which means I’m sleeping on the floor. The conditions I’m finding myself in right now remind me a great deal of the three years I spent living in Las Vegas in the mid 80’s. In the entire time I lived there I never had a bed and slept on the floor the whole time. I’ll grant you, things are a bit different for me than they were back then. Mid 20’s compared to late 40’s being the least of the differences.

When I first went to Vegas I had literally broken down completely. There wasn’t one thing in my life that I didn’t despise and would have welcomed being hit by a truck while walking across the street. I had just been through the one and only heartbreak I’ve allowed myself to suffer through and was truly confused about the what, where’s, how’s and why’s of life. Obviously four things I still haven’t come close to figuring out. I had a job and I had the sports book at the Palace Station Casino and, truth be told, I don’t think it would have been possible to handle anything else. I got rid of my car and rode a bicycle wherever I needed to go. If family came to town and wanted to meet at a Casino for dinner, I rode my bike and used the valet parking for it. It was kind of cool.

I got my first Walkman while living there and got heavily into the band REM and would listen to the tape of “Fables Of The Reconstruction” pretty much every day. I made a few friends while there, knowing that these were people I’d never see again if and when given the opportunity. At the time, people that lived there did little else but gamble and drink and I pretty much don’t drink. I did and still do like to gamble but I’ve always been pretty good at stopping when it becomes too much. I did have a roommate, someone I met at work, but he stole a good amount of money from me, quit his job and was never heard from again. That’s a pretty good example of the kind of people that populated the city back then.

The one good feeling I did have living there was the belief that things were gonna start looking up. Besides sleeping on the floor that’s the only other thing that’s the same as my life back then. I’ve made this huge, and I can’t stress how huge, decision to move down to the Detroit area instead of moving to Florida and yeah, it’s only been a week but I think it’ll be ok. I know I’ll have my down days and times when I’d rather be anywhere but living the life I’m living. There is, however, this feeling, this knowing that it’s going to be all right. I’ve still got the itch to leave, it hasn’t gotten any weaker since I decided to stay, but I’ve got a lot more holding me here than I’ve ever had anywhere else. More friends than I ever dreamed of. Yeah, it is getting better all the time. Thanks guys.

I Think He's Done This Before

What a great concert. I went down to the show with a couple friends, neither of whom knew anything about Todd Rundgren except for a song or two they’ve heard on the radio. We got to the “fair” about an hour or so before he was set to start so we walked around a bit and I bought some unidentifiable potato dish that most certainly will never pass my lips again and we went into the area of the show and looked for some good seats. We were fortunate to find three in the ninth row and we sat down and waited for the music to start.

Being an outdoor event, we could see the bus that the band was in behind the stage. Once they started coming out and up the stairs to the stage the long time Rundgren fans started going crazy. There are a few different types of people that attend these kinds of shows. Those that know nothing about the artist, those that know a hit or two and then there are the real fans. The “real” Todd Rundgren fans were quite obvious in the crowd. As he entered from the stairs in the back of the stage the adulation was comparable to a teeny -bopper show from the early 70’s. I get that, I really do. This guy’s music has done and meant so much to me since the first time I heard him in that friend that I spoke of in my previous post’s living room so many years ago. I too felt that little rush of emotion as the band strapped on their guitars. The anticipation of what the first song would be was a palpable feeling throughout the crowd.

There was also a pleasant surprise in the makeup of the band. I mentioned in a previous post of three bands that I would easily go out of my way to see live. One being Rundgren and one of the others is “The Tubes”. Todd and “The Tubes” have worked together in the past as he’s produced a couple albums with them. Well, their drummer also tours with Rundgren and a nice little roar emerged from the crowd as he took his place behind the drum set. Kasim Sultan, a multi instrumentalist that has been in most incarnations of Rundgren’s bands throughout his history, was also present. It’s always nice to see familiar faces.

The set itself was really well put together. He opened with a song from his band Utopia in the 70’s, “Love In Action” and preceded to throw out four or five songs that were familiar to most of the crowd. He played one song from his late 60’s band, “The Nazz” and then went into a very “poppy” version of “I Saw The Light” that everyone knew. So far, so good. He had us all right where he wanted us. He took a little break to talk to the crowd and tell us about an album he released about a year ago and said they were going to play some songs from that. He played a few songs that, to say the least, were a bit on the eclectic side of the scale and he knew it and after three or four of them told us he was now going to play something “a little easier on the palette”. He then played a song, also from the new album that could have come right out of the bubble gum craze of the early 70’s. I turned to one of my friends as we watched the entire crowd tapping their feet and bobbing their heads and said, “ Man, this guys a real pop star”. He readily agreed as we both laughed.

They played a number of other songs known by those that have followed his long career and went off stage before the obligatory encore. They came back on and played one of my faves, “Couldn’t I Just Tell You” and the crowd absolutely loved it. A real rocker with those pop tendencies I so adore. He closed the show with the song, “Just One Victory”. Another oldie but goodie that the crowd ate up as if they hadn’t been fed in years. No, he didn’t play the biggest hit of his career, “Hello It’s Me” but ya know something? It wouldn’t have fit. This was a rock n roll show put on by Todd’s incarnation of a rock n roll band. You know what else? This was a really good rock n roll show.

Pop Music On A Holiday Weekend

Fourth of July weekend and except for the year I worked for my sister it’s the first time I’ve got the three day weekend off. Retail does that to people. I’m sort of at a loss at what to do. I need to work on getting more of my stuff down to the new condo but can’t procure a truck this weekend. Well, I probably could but who in their right mind would want to help move furniture at this time. So, I’ll make a few trips down with my car loaded to the gill. I’ll make sure to take down a couple pillows and blankets and I may even sleep there, on the floor, tonight. I’ll bring Lucky down too so Ryan won’t have to get her out and make sure she’s got water and stuff like that.

I am a tad on the excited side this morning. They have this gig down in Detroit each year called Citifest or something like that and there’s live music and food and stuff. I think that’s the technical term, stuff. Anyway, I’m really pretty much over the rainbow about going tonight, See, there are three musical acts I’ve followed for years and pretty much drive wherever I have to, within reason, to see them. The Tubes, Barenaked Ladies and Todd Rundgren. Well, Rundgren is one of the acts on the bill tonight and guess where I’ll be this evening at 9:00.

I was introduced to Todd at around the age of 12. Tina, a friend of a friend back then was a huge fan and she would always be at this friend’s house and would be playing his “Something Anything” album. It’s the album with the song everybody and their mother knows, “Hello It’s Me”. Being the sap for love songs that I’ve always been and as stated numerous times on this blog, a major pop music fan, this album fit right up my alley. I don’t know if Tina would admit it but she was a big pop fan too. The other songs we were listening to at her behest were, “ Go All The Way” and “ I Wanna Be With You” by the Raspberries, “Roll Away The Stone”, and “The Golden Age Of Rock N Roll” by Mott The Hoople and the Sgt. Pepper album. All still music that satisfies my pop cravings on a regular basis.

People are regularly surprised when they see what’s on my ipod or cd’s that I have. Nobody would think I would have songs by “The Cure” for instance. Have you ever heard their songs “Friday I’m In Love” or “Just Like Heaven”? Pop at it’s finest. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t quite get most of the stuff they put out but those two songs, well, they simply do it for me. I’m looking at my playlist that I have hooked up to my blog and see so many examples of what I’m talking about. Mostly songs that tell a story and allow you to tap your toe to at the same time. Now, turn that into a love song and I’m like Homer Simpson when he sees a can of Duff beer

That’s what attracts me to Rundgren’s music. He’s a master of pop and can bring tears to the eyes of the most stoic of people while making them tap their feet to the tune. It really surprises me that he hasn’t had more hits than he has. The album I spoke of at the top is just loaded with pop ditties and whenever anyone I know hears them they like the songs. When asked if they have the album the answer is invariably no. With the ability to download songs instead of whole albums I think many are doing that when they hear the songs.

A few suggestions, besides, “Hello It’s Me”: “I Saw The Light”, “It Wouldn’t Have Made Any Difference” and “Couldn’t I Just Tell You”. All three are from the “Something Anything” album. I can promise you, if you are a pop fan at all, you’ll thank me for the suggestions.

So, I’ll start packing the car up in a few, leave some room for my best gal Lucky and head down to the metro area. If you happen to be in the area tonight, head on down to the show. You may even see me. You’ll know it’s me when you see the light in my eyes.