I was once the March Hare. I had tea parties with my brother, the Mad Hatter. This is my month. Truly the month for Madness. Just ask the NCAA. I get my second vaccine shot this month. I get to rehearse two shows and do some pre-production for a show that is coming back online after being banished by COVID. And I get to watch the finale of WandaVision.
Life is good.
Yes, it is also all too short, at times confusing, full of sorrow and anger and dreams unfulfilled. But still, I find it amazing to be alive. I love it. I always have, and suppose I always will.
Maybe I'm the village idiot, happily skipping along in blissful ignorance. But ignorant of what, I know not. I've had my share of death and fear and loathing. Of friends and family acting insane in the face of science and reason. I was in NYC for 9/11, the Bay Area for the big earthquake of 1989, lost people I love, been broke as can be, lost races, been rejected by what at times feels like every agency in both LA and NYC.
In short, I've seen my share of shit. As have we all this past year.
And yet, I still love being alive. Last night I was doing the dishes after making a triumphant batch of Mac-n-Chees with chorizo and a mix of cheddar and gouda that will be spoken of long after I shuffle off this mortal coil (if I do ever do that. I often think I am immortal). As I washed, I turned on the Stone and dance about the kitchen. Just because.
I am so lucky. I think a lot of us here in the USA are lucky. There are so many places that have a rougher quality of life. I mean, how many places can you live where not being able to get a hair cut is grounds for freaking out? I would have thought that this last year would give us all perspective, and appreciation for all the good things we have. And maybe it has. I hope to find out soon.
I am sure the lessons of this disease will continue for many years. Some will be pleasant. Some not so much.
Still awesome to be alive.
So. I the midst of all this bliss, my dog Padfoot is getting old. Very. I hate it. He is having pains in his joints, and things like climbing the stairs have become next to impossible. Sometimes, out of the blue, he gives a little squeal of pain. When I say I hate this, I mean I fucking hate it with all my being. I love my dog so much. He is the weirdest, best dog in the world. I want him to be young and healthy forever. To eat more of my wife's shoes. To get out and make me spend hours looking for him.
I want him to live forever.
Is that too much to ask? I suppose so. I've had some of the best dogs ever. I think we all have, because each dog is the best dog ever. There is solace in knowing that he will one day get to meet my first dog, Gigi. And I am sure they will get along and tell each other stories about life with me. So that's cool.
But the house will be so quiet when he goes. So unbearably clean.
But he ain't gone yet. There are still hugs to give, ears to scratch. Love to share.
And life is still beautiful, even with it's stupid brevity.
Here's a song. It's Marching On by The Alarm. Lots of big hair in this video. Enjoy.
2 comments:
Can't wait for that WandaVision finale. If you ask Wanda to scream inside her heart, she might say something like, "I'm tired of doing that. I have to let it out." And that's why she's the Scarlet Witch.
Here's to Padfoot, not because we met, by because he was your dear and dearly trusted friend I bet....so to that all to rare species amongst us, let us all dance for him a while....peace out Pad, and woof for Kelly when a sudden cosmic opening appears - om, and enjoy the journey as life flows on and on and om...woof! woof!
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