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Dead White Men, one very alive one, and some women

February 23, 2007 By pia

My friend sent me this geography test needed to pass from third to fourth grades. They said I got Florida wrong. Who can get Florida wrong? Oh, yeah….

I have been trying to keep myself out of falling into a depression. Winter, though late, has gone on too long. It feels that at this point in my life, I should be settled, not still weighing the pros and cons of a cross country move, and trying to break into a profession that worships youth.

I know that many of us remain forever entrapped at 35 because then everything still seemed possible, and we were just so damn cute. 35 still feels like the world awaits us no matter how caught up in life we were. 35 feels fun. Unfortunately I’m not 35 though I sure feel it.

Whenever I feel like this I turn to Warren Zevon because in the eleven months prior to his death, he didn’t fall into feeling sorry for himself but worked on has last CD, “The Wind” which was his gift to the world or me because it always makes me feel hopeful, and reminds me how important it is to keep moving forward.

It’s just so hard to do at times. And this blog makes me self conscious. For the first time I find myself doubting the words I put in, and wondering why I blog anyway.

Being in love with dead men is easy. You can imagine all kinds of possible scenarios that can’t possibly happen in this world. I’m not really the fantasy type so I don’t. But if I were two men would be at the top of my list: Warren Zevon and Hunter S.

However before I get to that video, Warren was David Letterman’s only solo guest and I so need to get a DVD of that show. Had I never heard of Warren Zevon I would have been impressed simply by his friend list. It would have been the coolest my space or blog a log or whatever list.

Here’s David, the very alive one, introducing a song he claimed to have played an important part in. It’s a mini trip through modern history

<embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WhRRWwH3Fro" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height=”350″>

Warren’s memoir and songs he never released while alive will be coming out next month or the month after

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4Id-Ga5P00]

It’s becoming a cliche but I will say it anyway:
Enjoy every sandwich

Actually that last one was difficult–enjoy every sandwich, because a part of me would, if
I ate sandwiches, and another part of me is fretting that I have disclosed too much about my personal problems.

They aren’t as understandable as other problems, and I’m not sure that I articulated them well. I’m not Jerry on BL. He’s much more brilliant and much less social. I look sound and act like “a normal person.”

Because of my spatial relationship problems and the organizational black hole, simple things are much more difficult for me.

I have basically given up on trying to articulate this because I don’t seem to do it well.

Blogging satisfied many needs but it made me too used to being quoted, and a bit full of myself. At times it has felt like the worst type of contact sport, but more often it was filled with encouragement. I did become addicted to that, not the blogging process.

I have bcome wary of what I say because like any fairly rational person, I like to read nice things about me not things that aim to ridicule me and take me down a notch or ten. I do find that funny because I’m so good at taking myself down.

I don’t even need an opponent to lose a boxing or wrestling match.

So I look for solace in music and Warren Zevon is one answer. Last night I was thinking of Ella Fitzgerald and Dinah Washinton. Couldn’t find the lyrics to “Look to the rainbow” from Finan’s Rainbow which for some reason was one of my two favorite songs for many reasons. The other will always be “What a wonderful world.”

Filed Under: music

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Comments

  1. cooper says

    February 23, 2007 at 9:45 pm

    “Being in love with dead men is easy. You can imagine all kinds of possible scenarios that can’t possibly happen in this world.”
    Love it.

    I think you should never have to even consider explaining anything to anyone.

  2. G says

    February 23, 2007 at 9:46 pm

    I too always seek my solace in music, it hasn’t failed me yet. I know what you mean about the self-consciousness that blogging can produce…then I just say, oh well, it’s my own little blog so who cares. In your case, the little blog gets magnified a bit, but still same principal.

    Loved the music – Warren Zevon was an amazing artist who played with so many people in the music business. Very poignant is making of his last album. Thanks for reminding me once again of the important things in life. wonderful post.

  3. shayna says

    February 24, 2007 at 1:29 pm

    Wow… you are all in to the You-Tube now… 🙂 I have to say that I have always loved David L since I was a wee one. As far as loving dead men… I have many that I have loved and still do. 🙂

  4. Jason says

    February 25, 2007 at 2:23 pm

    You know, reading this this morning put me in a chill Zevon-listening mood.

    Chica, you’re so right about addictions and the blog process. I finally gave up trying to please people and just started writing for myself. Bah – people can read it or not.

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About Me

I live in the South, not South Florida, a few blocks from the ocean, and two blocks from the main street. It's called Main Street. Amazes me too.

I'm from New York. I mostly lived in the Mid-Upper East Side, and the heart of the Upper West Side. It amazes me when people talk about how scared they were of Times Square in the 1970's and 1980's.

As my mother said: "know the streets, look out and you'll be fine."

What was scary was the invasion of the crack dens into "good buildings in good 'hoods." And the greedy landlords who did everything they could to get good tenants out of buildings.

I'm a Long Island girl, and proud of it now.
Then I hated everything about the suburbs. Yet somehow I lived in a few great Long Island Sound towns after high school.

Go to archives "August 2004" if you want to begin with the first posts.

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