The week that was was a week that found me floating, feeling untethered, drifting loose and alone among the other lonely souls that dance around the periphery...and then bound tight in the warm concentric grounding circles of friends and family...it is some family...
Monday night, River Gods. My friend Melissa, aka DJ Big Missy, invited me a few weeks ago to co-host the Weekly Wax series. Theme this week was “Apopalypse Now,” featuring songs related to the end of the world. It was fun as hell; River Gods is a great little neighborhood Irish bar, very authentic (and they make a fantastic veggie burger). Place holds maybe 50 people, very intimate venue and a real warm vibe.
That warm vibe is what really struck me....I’d sent a blind email to a healthy number of friends, extending the (admittedly selfish) invitation. First off, it was great to hang with Melissa, since we hadn’t seen each other in months. My old friend Tom came by with his new girlfriend; Tom & I were friends at UMass way back when, then lost touch until last summer when we ran into one another at a downtown sushi joint. John Laurenti, another ‘BOS castoff who’s too talented to remain on the beach for long....and also just a good friend. My buddy Steve Morse, the tallest man in whatever room he’s in, also came by...and when a 30+ year rock critic says he digs your playlist, you take it to heart. My friend Michael was there too, taking a break from creating the best audio imaging you’re likely to hear.
Point is, I was really touched by the crowd being there and hanging out. It was a beautiful moment, shared with good friends...those beautiful moments are invaluable, reminders that we’re part of something larger than ourselves and supported and liked simply because of who we are. No agenda beyond that. This was one of those times when it mattered more than usual, where the weight of it felt heavier and more significant because it was needed more. I needed it.
For a while now, I’ve been pondering....why is it we’re shitty to the ones we love? Why do we treat strangers better than our own families? Is it because we hold those closest to us to a higher standard, some unarticulated yet expected pattern of behavior that inevitably leads to disappointment precisely because our expectations are so ill-defined?
Every family has its drama, and mine is no exception. Sometimes I think that because of the large and fractured and fragmented nature of it that my family has more than its share...but we don’t. It’s impossible to have any quantifiable measure. It’s not a competition anyway; the last thing we need is yet another wrinkle added. All I know is that there is a lot of hurt, a lot of sadness. Some of the damage is irreparable, some isn’t. But it will all be irreparable if we substitute inaction for resolution, if we limit ourselves to finger-pointing and blame-shifting, if we fail to look past ourselves and see another’s point of view. After all, you only fail when you no longer try.
All I know is that it’s all so goddamn unnecessary. It’s all such a waste of time and energy. Life is too short for this fucking nonsense to continue. Life is too short not to try again. Life is too short to not put our egos aside and be honest with ourselves, with each other. We’re never given more than we can handle. I can handle entertaining a room full of people, I can handle love and heartbreak, and I can handle my family...I just can’t handle not trying. I can’t handle waking up filled with regret someday.
Apopalypse Now, indeed. The theme was appropriate in more ways than one.
If you’re interested in my “End of the World Songs” playlist, email me & I’ll send it.
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