When I was younger the sound of the Tall Boys, Final Kick emanating from my old tube stereo was a signal I was in a bad mood, understatement more like when I was really really angry. When it felt like the blood was burning in my veins.
Something about this tune, perhaps the best psychobilly 45 ever, that both gave voice to and burnt out my rage. The male me was always angry and perhaps only happy when giving voice to that anger….I hate being this way.
I am listening to that song today.
Why?
Frustration with my life in waiting, fueled by jealousy of others who are free to move forward has overwhelmed me. No I am not proud of my emotions and much of that anger gets turned inwards.
I alternately, just want to set the world on fire or crawl into a deep dark hole.
Stole that line from the classic Darlene Love song, Christmas (baby please come home). Helped put up the tree yesterday, dug out all the Christmas CDs including the amazing Phil Spector Christmas album, it even snowed creating a winter wonderland outside, but the Spirit of Christmas Present remains a stranger to me.
Darlene’s soulful plea is a honest note for those not feeling the whole Marshmallow World vibe.
Part of the problem is work, very busy laboring on a television project that is due in early January. Filmed this weekend and things went well, still one more shoot day to organize.
As part of the filming, put lots of miles on my old Toronado. She drove all over the place even across the border to Buffalo and back with nary a complaint.
Not bad for a thirty plus year old car but I do feel I was pushing my luck. Despite her mass and FWD a patch of black ice this morning almost ended things badly for the both of us.
Crossing an international border in this age of full body scanners, nothing says prepare for a cavity search like driving a big black vintage car in the middle of winter. Eye brows were raised and I believe I escaped x-rays and probes but the slightest margin.
I was a little put out that work prevented me from attending a big Christmas get together of girlfriends on Saturday. I did manage to get out for coffee with Marissa last night. It had snowed quite heavily but I was determined that April was not to be relegated to the closet for another week.
A little slippery as the plows and salt trucks had not passed by yet but good practice for the Monday morning commute.
I had a great chat with Marissa and felt a little better about things.
In the spirit of Scrooge I bring you one of the best Christmas songs ever and a wish that like Ebenezer we can shed the chains that bind our hearts.
This morning my wife was rushing to get ready, hair makeup etc. She raised an eyebrow and with some friendly sarcasm said, I know you wish you had to do this each morning.
Well yes, but I do not doubt it can be a complete pain in the ass when you are running late and the children have to get to school. Getting ready as a guy is generally a lot faster but don’t try and tell me ironing a shirt, polishing shoes and shaving takes five minutes.
I do know how long it takes to get ready to leave the house (even longer in my case) but it would be a small sacrifice and then I could complain about it too.
Work is so busy GID naturally takes a back seat but it is certainly no cure.
“When the angel of death comes looking for me, when the angels sing, I hope I was everything I was supposed to be”
I unexpectedly came across this photo of my younger self. Taken two decades ago at least (I feel faint) at a car show with like minded rockabilly friends. I think this was during my university days just before I did my MBA.
Did I know then, yes but it was as if through a glass darkly.
I was a little hesitant to show this but I have posted a guy picture before. I must say that my hair was outstanding, I still have the motorcycle jacket and it fits. I had dyed my hair blond (not very well), I thought it would make me look more like Billy Fury.
It was a very odd sensation seeing this photo. I am really not sure what to make of my emotions, have I killed him, lost him, what would I say to my younger self? Transition now! Hang in there it will be ok? Just check out now! Don't do this to your future wife! I am at a loss for words.
I was happy to get out Sunday and thought I looked ok but the few photos MJ shot made me look awful. I think I looked rather gaunt and haggard. I blame the lack of sleep and being stressed out at work. I can safely say that I now fully appreciate the concept of beauty sleep.
Bad news is that my current work load will not abate until sometime next week and there is no one but me to get the job done. Hopefully Sunday afternoon I will be able to take a breather. Until then every day and night is consumed by writing. It is a truism that we live in a downsized and razor thin world.
Writing to some comes easily (Stephen King comes to mind, someone please get him an editor) but apart from some rare instances it is like pulling teeth for me. The completion of an article, script or proposal leaves me exhausted and mentally drained.
So raise a cup of joe and wish me Godspeed.
Here is Glenn Glenn with One Cup of Coffee (And A Cigarette):
Ok not the best picture from last night but the only one with a festive background. Coffee with MJ at our regular hangout. No I am not really on the phone with the Jolly Old Elf. Priority call from girlfriend Natasha detailing her shoe shopping spree in NY City.
I went to wife’s office Christmas party the other night. It was a formal affair so I was in a suit. We had a friend baby sitting so I agreed to go home early to relieve her. She would stay for the dancing and socializing getting a ride home with a co-worker.
I am usually quite uncomfortable at these setting so I didn't mind, the dinner was nice and I had a fun conversation with the woman next to me about cars (surprise!). When the dancing started wife kindly engaged me in conversation about some of the outfits various wives and co-workers were wearing.
I was doing ok with the GID until I had a look out at the dance floor, I felt such an intense loss (a loss for something I had never known), I wanted to be out there as April.
I found the intensity of the emotion surprising and it left me very upset. Once I had the children to bed there were some tears.
Super busy at work but got some writing done Saturday, I could have stayed in and done more Sunday but I knew getting out would help me be more productive in the long run.
Here is Dave Edmunds with a very cool New Years Eve live version of Chuck's Run Run Rudolf, perhaps my favourite Christmas song (the go go girls doing the swim was a nice touch):
Work is crazy and I will likely not be able to get out as April for a week or two because of filming and a script I have to write. I will not be a happy camper (actually my idea of camping is a really nice hotel) and will end up wound tighter than a cheap watch.
Feeling totally stressed and time was is short supply yesterday. I started to draft a post but didn’t make it…sorry. I am always gratified that people read my blog and even take the time to post a response.
It was with some surprise that my post from Wed. had four comments. It was so nice to hear from all of you and it made a huge difference in my day. The lovely, supportive and encouraging words helped clear some of the grey clouds from my sky.
Yesterday was my fifth or six laser appointments, I actually really look forward to the sessions despite the minor discomfort as it is concrete proof I am making some progress on my road to womanhood. (Look I worked in the blog’s title….so subtle).
The morning commute can be an opportunity for some quiet contemplation, if you ignore the resonance from the Toronado’s stainless steel dual exhaust. It struck me that I also enjoy the sessions as it is almost exclusively a female environment and I am accepted without question. They know the reason why I am having laser hair removal and have been very kind, praising the photos I have shared and even visiting this blog.
I am told I have had good results and the time between sessions has been extended to coax out any dormant hairs that can then be eliminated with extreme prejudice.
I am still wrestling with a schedule that it too full for the hours provided. A late night combined with one of the children crawling into bed and then kicking me at odd intervals until the alarm sounded has made for an exhausting morning.
I seriously contemplated calling in sick and working from home as I feared crashing the car into a ditch or worse injuring a fellow motorist. But as there is no rest for the wicked I fueled up with coffee and aimed the hood of the big black car due north. Made it but by the afternoon will need a recharge at Starbucks.
Hugs,
April
I will leave you with Elvis signing We're Coming In Loaded from the movie Girls, Girls, Girls. I love Elvis movies not because they are bad or the music uninspired but because they always contain hidden gems that reinforce my belief that he was the coolest cat on the planet. I mean could anyone else make commercial fishing sound so good or look so good doing it.
I believe that is Red West on guitar, I met his brother Sonny a few years ago, both were members of the Memphis Mafia. That is Elvis' entourage for the uninitiated, but more about that next week.
