WHAT'S THE FREQUENCY, KENNETH?
So much waxing and whining about the good old days, the days of our youth, the Olde Vancouver, as if time should have frozen in the 80's. Do you really want to revisit or relive the 80's? Wasn't once enough? Check out some of those asymmetrical hair styles and tell me you want that back. I didn't think so.
Yes, it was a grand time, a golden age if you will. And it was exciting, and we were young, and burned through life like a wildfire. But fire season doesn't last forever. Life goes on, change happens, shit happens, sometimes the wood works, sometimes you need an iron. And don't get me started on irony and satire, which rarely work today, given the fragmented, divided and very compartmentalized times we live in. Nobody "gets" the joke anymore. The audience is not laughing, in fact, the audience didn't even show up. It may be the bane of my professional career that I quit golf in my teens.
What do you suggest on this hole, my good man?
Well, you seem to be mired in the sand, sir.
I would suggest a wedge, chip on up to the green, and putt-putt-putt away.
Works like a charm, just like a dream.
Well wake up because it only works like a dream because you are sleeping.
It's not a contest with a prize at the end. Life is more of a contest with a surprise at the end. Happy ending? And they all lived happily ever after....It is certainly not a given.
My grade 11 math teacher Mr Kagetsu hammered home his personal philosophy like it was a religion. He would write on the blackboard everyday, the words "HARD WORK MAKES A HAPPY PERSON". Those words may be trite, redundant, but they sure were true. We laughed at his Dad humour, but he was right. Happiness is not a given, it is hard work.
Some days are better than others. Some lives are better than others. Some girls mother's are bigger than other girl's mothers. Life is not fair or equal and it never will be. To expect such is a bad recipe for unhappiness and depression.
Relationships are hard work. Love is hard work. Take it from a guy in a 40 year relationship. Nothing happens without the spark, but a good fire requires fuel. At some point, fire needs wood to keep the flames burning. But toss a big log on a fire, and it works as well as water to put the fire out. Random Acts of Kindling are what the doctor ordered.
I was struck today by just how many friends I have on the old social media who are no longer with us, i.e. they are deceased, nix, null, dead and gone. Literally "waffer thin." As I scroll through all the many names, looking for living friends to invite to a recent "event", I really had to be so careful so as not to invite the departed to the party. Hell, some of those cold bodies would be more fun that the warm bodies that won't come anyway. How does that nostalgia work for you when you are ashes on a beach?
We have to respect the past, remember the past, honour those who went before us, even honour the "us" that we were before. But it is a special kind of blindness to desire to live in the past.
I strive to create something new, something better, always better. Ask me what song is on my mind, and it is usually the one I am working on right now.
We have a new song we are building, called Pumpkin Spice Latte. We have written a great riff that progresses, but never resolves. Musically there is a tension; lyrically, there is no chorus per se, but it keeps coming back to a"self-help"primer. Let's throw caution to the wind and call this the chorus. Even though the progression underneath is the same as the verse. These verses I have recycled from old song fragments, cobbling these tales of bad luck together like Frankenstein's monster. Sort of adversity with a "Greek chorus" disguised as a gooey centre of modern advice.
Get with the program
Throw a pity party
Laugh like Seth Rogan
Have a pumpkin spice latte
Get rich-drive a Mazerati
Get to lecture by Dr. Gabor Mate
Hopefully it all will work out in the end. Still in the workshop. Dad won't let me drive it yet. Needs some more work, son. Hopefully it doesn't end up as the sonic equivalent of a bachelor's self made meal. Even Savage Dad Rock needs a timeout now and then.
But don't you see - the end result doesn't matter. It is the process that keeps us going. It is the simple joy of trying to create something new. Whether it sprouts from within, or is delivered from above, who knows?
It could all be a waste of time. Pissing my life away, playing to crowds of 20 when I could be rich and unhappy. I guess I would rather be wasting time on trying to create something new, than moaning on about how great a time I had 20, 30, 40 years ago.
What's the frequency, Kenneth?
"The human remains... somewhere inside of us"ReplyDelete
Echoes in my head of a song I saw on a creepy TV show way back in early '80s Vancouver.
Was that you?