Hard Start – Time to Reboot

I woke with a colossal headache this morning AND I’m a little stuffed up too. Is this another cold? NOOOOOOO! Can’t be – I don’t have time for this PLUS one damn cold per year is way more than enough. Dammit.

My dreams last night were populated by all my friends and lovers who’ve gone on to Big Mystery Country ahead of me. Yeah, not exactly a cheery evening on the rack.

Ya know, I KNOW that death is part of the whole game of life. I can dig it BUT, mother of dog, it’s painful as fuck.

The Amazing Bob made an early appearance in my sleepy-time movieola. We were standing on the steps of a brownstone (our home?) holding on to each other. We knew we had to part (mi fa cagare!) and, while clinging to him desperately, I was sinking into a swamp of misery. Of bloody course I was!

Next I was in some old, beautifully atmospheric building – think the Bradbury from Bladerunner – Hillel and I were sitting in some hallway at a café table sipping our preferred bevs (coffee for me, tea for him). All around us major work was being done. This fabola building was being totally repaired, restored and revived. It was gonna be gorgeous. What was I doing there? I was hoping to run into my pal, Sean Vigle. He was on the construction crew. I hoped he could take time out for a hello and how ya doin.’ Mega sadly, it was the briefest of how de dos and then he was off – back to work.

Yeah, that left a wide-ass hole in my heart.

I woke before Kevin could take center stage. Thank the little baby Bast for small favors, eh?

Me and Pop in the late '70s

 What’s all this death and the maiden (OK, death and the older broad) shit about?  I imagine the hard visit with Daddy was the immediate spark. There was a moment where he didn’t recognize me. He asked who I was and was I related to him. In the very next moment he was back – his old self again. We joked, teased and went all Dada with our convo – as uszh.

Man, that was a heinous cold, wake-up icicle. I dunno how much time the Old Man has left on this earth but, whoa baby, I want to see him, enjoy and support him, as much as I can. I SO wish that he lived here in Massachusetts!

I cry-shouted to Janice, HOW MANY PEOPLE WILL I OUTLIVE? HOW MANY OF MY LOVE’S DEATHS MUST I ENDURE!  Yup, it was a big Drama Mama moment.

Ya know, I don’t believe I ever thought I’d live this long and I surely didn’t anticipate so many of mes amours cutting the line. I’m a little shortsighted like that.

I wondered, will this painful parting shit stop me from exploring new relationships or, for that matter, will I withdraw, become a hermit so’s I don’t need to feel the pain? Heh, FUCK no! The slings and arrows of cruel reality is just the price we pay for all the glorious, happy-joy-joy times.

I remember, a zillion and one half years ago, telling mia madre that Stan and I were gonna shack up. She was, naturally, horrified – her daughter LIVING IN SIN! Once I got her past the antiquated judginess, she said “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” I replied, with a snort, that’d be like jumping into the ocean and expecting to stay dry. Unimpeachable logic, no?

If I’m gonna experience all the wonder, love and bliss that I can in this life (and that’s my aim) I gotta pay the Grim Reaper’s price. Boom. No getting around that.

So then, sorry/NOT sorry Ten, you are NOT off the hook with me!