I forgot to mention that last night was the full moon. I didn't forget, actually. I thought it occurred on Sunday, which it did, just after midnight on Saturday. Depending on your source, you would find it listed for either night.
There was something else I forgot to mention. I didn't forget, actually. I was reminded of it last night. On July 4th, 1984, our band played to a crowd of 60,000 people. They were there to see the fireworks show, but still. . . .
Those bits of information came to me after returning home from my mother's house where we had the traditional hotdog, watermelon, and beer. I recounted many of my crazy solo travel adventures for her. What a life I've led.
Then I came home to a dinner alone.
Bored, with many symptoms of depression, I decided to watch one of the movies I've queued in my Amazon account. I chose "Sunshine Hotel." What a mistake. It was morbidly fascinating, but terribly disturbing. I don't recommend watching it right now. It is about the last flop house in the Bowery. I watched "On the Bowery," the 1957 docudrama about this same neighborhood some time ago. Same people, same situations in "Sunshine Hotel." It is unbelievable that many of the residents have lived in 6x4 foot cages for fifteen or twenty years. It is terrifying.
I had nightmares, of course, and finally had to get up in the dark to staunch them. But I have been unable to shake it. The nightmare continues
No, I can't recommend that you watch it. It is just too powerful.
I don't like the trajectory I am on. I can't be a tough guy any longer. There comes a point when you know the next blow will be the one that undoes you. You don't want to sit and wait for it, but what else is there to do?
I wasn't going to write today. I shouldn't. But, as the song goes, there is nothing that competes with habit.
Pardon the Habit
ReplyDeleteThe weather - Cape Cod Weird Ass Summer But Still Weather Like There Was No Pandemic Weather- is helping.
The flowers. The veggies. Tho my largest so far tomato has been knocked off the vine. I just discovered on my evening estate stroll. Oh well. If it continues - the Bunnies are to blame and will have to be dealt with. Haven't had to water - we've had beautiful summer rain.
And I'm back to the books v. seriously. There are too many things I don't know of - that still need exploring. And now that I'm off the Jeff Spicolli thing and not smoking all morning - noon - I still smoke at night - Oh. I'm fibbing some. If I'm going to read something really fun or wonderful - I take a hit or two - of a special blend that invigorates the senses. I just have to dose it properly.
Why must I confess? I'm not even Catholic.
Ok. My T. loved Tom Swift - I found him a full set at a yard sale. While I was reading Mr. Ferlinghetti - who talks like a good friend about my good friends (Long Ass Dead Artists, Painters, Poets, etc) in some of his poems - especially the ones that are meant to be spoken word - I came across something and I just wanted to put it somewhere. Thanks for the space.
I wish I could invent a "Depression Awayer.: There are a lot of people who need it. Self-Care. Soak your feet in hot soapy water. Deep condition your hair. Buy a nice smelling candle. Bring yourself flowers.
Excerpt from "I Am Waiting"
I am waiting for Tom Swift to grow up
and I am waiting
for the American Boy
to take off Beauty's clothes
and get on top of her
and I am waiting
for Alice in Wonderland
to retransmit to me
her total dream of innocence
and I am waiting
for Childe Roland to come
for the final darkest tower
and I am waiting
for Aphrodite
to grow live arms
at a final disarmament conference
in a new rebirth of wonder
oh it is a good poem. But I just loved that - cause of what it said.
I do not enjoy Dryden, Pope, and Swift. But I do not know Tom.
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