Accidentally Like a Martyr

There is nothing quite so pitiful as a middle-aged woman looking out at a beautiful early fall morning, listening to Excitable Boy, and crying. Strange enough, that’s where I find myself. I’ve just started the song Accidentally Like a Martyr for the 4th time, I can never quite get past this song without playing it five or six times. It’s just that good.

Today though. Whew.

All the political rantings are going to need to take a back seat to the fact that I feel like hell. Yes, the world has gone to shit. Trump is a nightmare. Another unarmed black man has been gunned down in what seems to be an endless and senseless parade of extra-judicial executions for simply having skin of a different color.  This world sucks and I’m tired of the fight.

No this is not an I’m signing off post. I’m not depressed and I’m certainly not suicidal. I’m just fucking sad.

Shit. The song ended. Okay, I’m going back to Johnny Strikes Up the Band and working my way forward, maybe I’ll get a handle on my tears if I go back to the beginning, and isn’t that just the damn truth.

I want to hit a reset button because I feel like we are at an “Edith Keeler must die” moment in history.

I want to hit a reset button because I feel like we are at an “Edith Keeler must die” moment in history. Unfortunately, we don’t have Kirk to hold McCoy back from saving the plucky social worker from an oncoming car. There’s no Spock, looking all slick in his black watch cap and jeans to tell us we have to do the right thing and let Edith get creamed by the cab. If only we were in the episode City on the Edge of Forever maybe we would be able to get a peep at what a monumental cluster-fuck our future is going to be and start doing the right fucking thing for a change. Instead there is even odds that the next POTUS is going to be a racist, violent, misogynist who looks like an overgrown oompa-loompa and acts like a spoiled anti-social teenager.

Oh, Werewolves of LondonNice. That’s a great tune, not my favorite. My favorite is Carmelita. There’s nothing quite as beautiful as the line “Carmelita, hold me tighter, I think I’m sinking down, and I’m all strung out on heroin on the outskirts of town.” I once saw Warren Zevon live. It was the end of his career and he was playing an auto show. They had one of the greatest songwriters of all time stationed at a baby grand next to the kids climbing wall. It was the epitome of weird. All these people were standing around like he was some hack playing piano at the mall. A dude who knew who he was kept shouting  at him to play Werewolves.  Zevon looked wrung out. I’m sure he was dying of cancer by that point, even though I didn’t know that at the time, and the years of alcoholism and drug abuse hadn’t done him any favors either. I stepped up to the piano and quietly asked him to play Carmelita for me. He smiled and then played the hell out of my favorite song.

What was I saying? Oh yeah. I’m sad and the world is upside down. I need someone to ask me to play Carmelita and remind me what it was like to feel better, to go back to the time in my life where taking a shower didn’t use up all my energy for the day.

Whatever. Speaking of Carmelita, I’m moving on to Linda Ronstadt’s classic album Simple Dreams, it’s just that kind of a day.

I’d  take just getting to deal with one catastrophe at a time. Balancing the joint pain and nausea with the  shit-scared feeling of panic that I experience when I imagine a Trump/Pence presidency is weighing on me heavy. My brain can’t handle it today. Today, I’m going to pull out my old records (sadly that is only in a figurative sense) and hang out with the past. Maybe I’ll pull two kitchen chairs together and make a fort with a blanket. I’ll snuggle up with the dog and watch Star Wars or Raiders of the Lost Ark. Shit, I might even bust out The Lost Boys. 

Tomorrow I’ll pop on some Billy Bragg and get back in the fight.

I’m spending today with Luke and Leia, Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner, Indie, and my Dear, Dear Prudence.

Peace.

If you have not had the privilege of Listening to the albums Excitable Boy by Warren Zevon & Simple Dreams by Linda Ronstadt or seeing the Star Trek (Original Series) episode City on the Edge of Forever, please do yourself a favor and rectify that, they are worth your time.

 

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