Thursday, April 14, 2016

A Day Before 43

The Truth in 13 Words - " Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what the fuck happened"

Do you believe in old souls...In reincarnation?  What about cosmic litter mates? (a phrase I prefer over soul mates). I have no true basis or source for my beliefs and I have held them long enough to prove they are more than just rebellion against my raising.  I believe that between my last lifetime and my current that I recycled rather quickly.  I have a strange awareness and draw to the old music and cars, almost like memories.  The response I sometimes get is that my parents must have listened to it when I was young and I picked up on it.  This is not the case.  The summer before 3rd grade we moved to a new, much smaller town.  I remember early on that school year they asked us to write the radio station we listened to on a paper and then everyone got to show their paper and talk about it to the class.  I use the term class loosely as there were about 10 of us that year.  We sat with our desks in a circle facing each other.  I don't recall what the other kids had written but can almost still see my paper.  E-Z 102  It was the elevator music station of the time.  There was no 60's or 70's Rock and roll influencing my young brain. That radio station truth exposure I believe was the door opening to my ass being kicked every damn day on the playground for the remainder of that year.  It didn't help that I was a red headed buck tooth Opie look-a-like.

My current read is Keith Richards life story, which is way outside of my normal reading comfort zone. Back in 97 I saw the Stones in concert.  It was a last minute impulsive ticket buy as they announced the day before the concert they had "production seating" meaning the stage hadn't taken up as much room as they had planned.  I was in the second row of the second section.  At 24 I had no idea of what songs the Stones had made it with.  At some point I had a greatest hits cd.  As I read this book though, at mention of a title from early or mid 60's the notes and lyrics come springing from the deep dark crevasses of my mind.  It makes me wonder what else "I know" that I don't know, that I know. 

The Lost Art....
What happened to consideration?  It makes me insane to look across a restuarant and see everyone on a phone ignoring everything and everyone around them.  The young ones almost have a pass because they have had technical devices shoved up their asses since they came out of the womb.  The 70 some year old women that can't put them down or even look up to order a glass of wine are the ones that get me the most...this has been in your life for like the last 5 minutes, step out of the way, put the fucker down, order your wine and have a conversation.   

On the conversation of conversations, it seems I've fallen into a pit where no one has real conversations anymore.  It's all about whatever sport happens to be in a play off or tournament situation or politics or the weather or someone's golf game.  I'm so starved of real conversation, I'm almost to the point of eating my own brain, which everyone knows will probably taste like vodka, pork rinds and hot sauce.  

I suppose it's my looming day of birth celebration that has me contemplating quality of time and life and what we do with what we have...and such heavy shit.  My Daddy died at 62 and a half, tomorrow I will turn 43.  That would leave me 19 and a half years, subtract the last 4 that he came and went with awareness, that brings it to just over 15 years.  The fuck.  I have got to get busy. I still have redwood forests and desert formations to see.  And mountains in Peru to hike.  And islands to live on...