Looking for light the other day.
Didn’t find it.
However, it showed up in another, less vitamin D enriched environment. In the fine fine form of the delicious, delightful and dark Marc Maron.
I know, I know, I heard it…I seee it. Alliteration it’s real people! I intend to very possibly overuse it, deal with it or move along..
Anyhooszel…..
Light.
Light came in the combined acts of caffeinating early, before walking downhill, with strength and purpose toward the second day of another new job, coupled with working earbud technology!!! What?
Hold the freakin phone marge!
I know riiiight ….(shhhhhhh…or they’ll hear you and stop working)
Focus…
oh yeah…light
ok, so, I am listening to a podcast…
Which took me yeeeeeaars to figure out how to find, and press, and play. Covid forced me to find a way to get at least one feckin device to talk back to me about things I’m interested in, IN a controlled space fer an amount of time that I saw fit.
Three mins, halfway through, or the whole damn thing.
Bless the boys at Smartless! I’d have given anything to have attended those poker games in person, but gawd dammit if it ain't the next best thing.
For me, covid did something amazingly specific.
Something, that I have fantasized about ever since I realized that Nik Kershaw wasn’t gonna wait fer me after the concert. Ya know… to find out what I thought of the set, then INSTANTANEOUSLY realize that he neeeeeeded to know everything about me, call his wife and kid…tell them it was over, but more importantly and immediately find somewhere else to sleep tonight because….
My dream was about to come true!
This amazing thing would finally happen!!
(Ok, this is how sad my recovering catholicism is….Sex wasn’t even in the top 47 things I thought about! (But that’s a thousand stories fer another day)
I have no heritage to back this up, but I use it constantly and it is the only word that works here…..Oy freakin vey,)
Ok!….here it is, the amazing thing…(not sex mind you, not even a make out session with a free tee shirt, nope!)
I WOULD GET TO GO TO HIS HOUSE!
My entire thought process was purely perpetuated (ah..there I go again..le sigh) by the idea of seeing inside his house ! How he lived!
What posters are on his wall?
I know what posters were on mine!! Him !
(And I do remember veeeery specifically having to wait three freaking weeks for a certain well-talked-about-in-advance-at-convent school THIRD section from Jackie magazine of a LIFE SIZE NIK KERSHAW poster.
Whaaaaa??? He’s 5 4in I’m 5 4in, we’ll be exactly the same size, IN MY ROOM ! and I can practice kissin him so I’ll be good when we’re married! Ya know…the plan!
1st week - shoes and ankles
2nd week - knees, people
3rd week - Ohhhh yeah…..
( I couldn’t tell ya what I was looking for exactly in that third section, but I know I took the staples out real fuckin careful)
Anyway…his house, I wanted inside the house!
What the hell color is that wall?
What records has he got?
How does somebody who makes the music he makes that speaks to me so loudly at this time in my life, make that music??
What the hell does that room look like???
Hi Covid! Ya fuckin bastard….
Thanks soooooo much fer fuckin up eeeeevvvrrrything fer eeeeverybody on eeeeeeevery level.
There aren’t enough words, riiiight ??
But if we shake our satirists upside down, I’m sure there’s a few well crafted cur-esque adjectives we can glean from the lint in their awesome panic reducing pockets.
(A quick aside……..too late)
Gentlemen..
I tip my hat in your honor, and eat chocolate, naked in yer presence. I am indebted to ya’ll both for yer humor and yer company.
What’s left of my brain thanks you.
NEXT ! thought please…..
Oh yeah! Covid. BASTARD.
So what’s good to be garnered here.
Without the risk of very possible restraining orders, and certain jail time. Covid, that fucker. Allowed me in ! to allllll of their houses.
Every benevolent artist that took time to prop their phone up in their bathroom, (Hi Josh! nice singing) let me in their houses.
In doing so, I got my 14year old girl wish.
I saw what was on the walls, what records they played, and where the cat was, while they were doin all that!
Aaaaand holy hell!….if you caught em live, they might talk back to ya!!
In the room. In the conversation.
Despite the truly shitty circumstances.
During Covid, this was happening, and I felt less alone, and more connected.
In that room, and sometimes part of the conversation.
“Art makes everything better” Steeve said to me the other day, while we both talked of pain and grief.
I love a lot of art, and I love the art of conversation.
So, light….much needed light. It didn’t permeate the sullen sky of the Pacific North West today.
Instead, light shone through the tasks of the day, through the pain in my losses, through the technology that tests my patience, through the medium I am just beginning to comprehend, through my sometimes crippling anxiety, through to, the familiar warm tones in a former drafty garage, of a room I’d never be allowed in ! (..without a police escort out) to the tail end of a story from Ned ! Ned Ryerson!
About the other side of the miracle.
Light, through the art of conversation. Light, through the wisdoms that come with time and hardships, a hopefully living long enough to make some sense of some things!!! fer the love of Christmas ! ( and that’s an expletive by the way)
The light, of perspective from artists I respect
(is anybody pissed of with my phrasing yet?oh well, this is fer me anyway.)
I currently do not have the light of the California sun on my skin, to ease my anxiety and the utter fear of my uncertain existence, but it nice to know, when my phone is working that I can filter some light from delightful delicious dark Marc.
Here’s to the light, may it find us before we need to seek it.
