February 25, 2008

Life Can Turn on a Dime

One thin dime. Chump change, as Scotty Hard and I used to say. Or was that Lucky Taylor? We've been cribbing from each other for so many years I forget who had the chicken and who had the eggs. One minute you're on the top of the world. The next, you are being pulled from a car with the jaws of life.
In other words, one minute you're an egg, and the next you're breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner.
One thin dime. Use it or lose it.
You can use them as a screwdriver in a pinch.
What is the measure of a man? I'm not speaking length or girth or even weight. What makes you and unmakes you? How close are you to the ones you love?
A whisper, a passing memory, the scent of figs and the ocean breeze. The salt on your skin, the smell of fear that seems almost electrical. That close. The kind of close you tell your only your closest friends and shrink.
I was talking to man the other day about my new mantra, which I can sum up as "Some people just are fucked - So don't let them rain on your parade (or piss on your blog, either.)
Learn to laugh and let go.
He said yeah that's o.k., but prefers the "Vegas model."
I said what's the "Vegas model?"
He said, Life is all managed risk.
Sometimes you are on a roll, sometimes you're the meat in the roll being eaten alive. The dealer can be the devil, or your best friend. Or just some guy making the rent.
He then quoted Frank Sinatra, "If you live your life like it's gonna be last day, then maybe it will".
I'm not certain that's really a Sinatra quote, or if I agree. Except to interject what my mother always said, "Everything in moderation."
I always put the emphasis on "everything", as opposed to moderation, being that everything is quantifiable, and moderation is lines in the sand. Let's not even talk about a windy day.
Speaking of sand, how about the Driftwood Theory? Does the wave crashing on a piece of wood in the surf, driving it into the turf have any emotions about the deal?
It's just life; sometimes the water is calm, sometimes it's choppy. Nothing personal.
What if the wood is a surfboard? What if, for argument sake, we put a surfer on the other side of the board?
Now let's say the ocean is a stolen car driven by three teenage drunks, and the piece of wood is a taxi at three in the morning, and the person in the taxi just happens to be your best friend coming home after working til 3 in the morning, probably on some artistic project, where he may not see any money for months on, if at all?
Life can turn on a dime. One thin dime.
Start saving those dimes, because the details of Scott's Trust Fund will be announced later this week, and we all know how big a wave the US medical system is.
"The surf is my alter, the wave is my prayer.
Down on blood beach, there ain't nobody there....." dense milt Rhythm Mission

1 comment:

  1. Hey Dennis,
    you are so amazing to write this blog like you do and keep us all posted on Scotty's recovery. I'm sure Facebook is inundated with support but since I no longer have an account there I will post on your excellent blog instead. When I was going through a really shitty time a long, long time ago he sent me the most unbelievably uplifting and wonderful letter from New York where he had just moved. I'll never forget his thoughtfulness and kindness at that time and I hope I can return that to him. Even if I sent a millionth of his good vibes it would hardly come close to how much that letter meant to me. Scott Harding is awesome and Ross and I send all our love & support his way!
    Jane

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