BLUE MONDAY TRUE MONDAY THAT'S MY FUN DAY MY I DON'T HAVE TO RUN DAY

I had a ton of vivid dreams last night. One of them took place in the 1980s, when I was in high school. The song Blue Monday featured prominently. Sadly, I can't tell you much more, because I had so many dreams, and they were all so vivid, they kind of cancelled each other out, and I am left with this strange mish-mash memory of them all. It didn't help that my dog Padfoot kept waking me up and needing to go out. Usually, he has one trip outside a night. Last night he went out four times. I kid you not. Four damn times. And just to pee. And each time he woke me up, I was in the middle of yet another vivid dream. And all of them were positive. I do remember that. They were those dreams that when you start to awaken you wish could keep on going. 

Still, the dreams put me in a good mood. And so, in honor of Blue Monday and songs of the 1980s, on my way to get tested for Covid, I put on U2's War, and listened to the whole thing. It was one of the first albums that I listened to over and over and over, and it always brings me back to those days, that time when the world was classes and friends and music and the Impala and driving over the hill to Santa Cruz and the Dollar Movie and Young Life and Swim Team and Scouts and no clue about where I was heading and not really caring all that much. A time when most nights I'd end up at Carrow's with Tom and Brian, going over the events of the day. 

Those vivid times are jumbled up in my mind now too. And they have an excellent soundtrack. 

One thing I can't stand about movies set in any section of the past that I have lived in is how often they get the songs wrong. They play top ten hits, but no deep cuts. No rarities. Just the hits. Not that some of the hits don't belong. If I was going to make a movie about my high school years it would certainly feature Blue Monday, I Will Follow, and Video Killed the Radio Star. But it would also include a ton of Dead Kennedys, Angry Samoans, and songs by Madness beside Our House. 

I do wish I had all my old records. LPs, EPs, and 45s. I think most of them are long gone. The few that are left are sitting in a storage unit in San Jose, and once my mom's house sells, I'll go get them. Not that I want to be one of those who only play the songs from their past. That is out. In fact, in my first play, Last Call, I had a group of friends who would only go to this one bar, and only play the songs from high school on the juke box. Over and over. To the point where the songs lost all meaning and resonance and became barriers to thought and expression and joy. 

So I don't want to do that. 

But I do like to listen to the old stuff now and then. 

And I did  back when I was in high school, too. I think if you limit yourself to any one thing, type of music, kind of film, and so on, you limit way too much. 

Sometimes, you need to expose yourself to the unexpected. To things that aren't part of your past, or determined to be something you might like by some algorithm. 

As Beckett wrote, habit is a great deadener. 

So here's to trying new things, to listening to old things, and to things in general. 

Here's a song. It's a cover of Blue Monday by Orkestra Obsolete.

LOVE AND POSSIBILITY

It's MLK day, and I'm home, contemplating the world, the nation, and life in general. I think about Doctor King, who to me is one of the great spiritual leaders in recent history, full of kindness, love, thoughtfulness, and strength. Qualities to aspire to, and to seek for in others, particularly our leaders in the here and now. I love it that we will soon have a senator who is the pastor at the church where MLK was once the pastor. There's a symmetry to that, a circle of life kind of feel, like it was meant to be in some way. And that gives me hope.

I'm a bit of a agnostic mystic, a believer in the unknown powers behind the veil, a seeker of truth. I see messages in history, logic in nature, and a sense of the eternal in my fellow human beings from time to time, usually when they are laughing or loving or making music or art.

Today, I start another round of daily blog entries. I did them at the beginning of this new era, and it helped me process what was happening. It also got my writing brain in shape. And in general, it made me feel good. Whenever I write on a consistent basis, I feel happier, more in tune with myself and the world, better prepared to face the day, and always more productive.

In the first batch of daily blog entries, I wrote several drafts of a new screenplay. From scratch. And I think it's pretty damn good.

Who knows what will come of  this round? 

So, I was thinking this morning how there is no going back to the way things were before. I think that is always true, in any time, but somehow I think we are all hoping that just this once we can have that be possible. Have it be that we can wake up and realize this was all just a very long, complicated dream, and that there was no global pandemic, that there was no sacking of the Capitol, that the entire way we view ourselves and our world didn't really change forever and ever amen. 

But such is not the case. We live in constant flux. Always have, always will. And that's a good thing, I believe. I have had times in my life that have been rough, and times that have been shockingly wonderful. But they all move along, blend together, become something else.

I think embracing change is necessary to live properly. Because, regardless of what we desire, change is relentless. 

So, embrace the change. Dance with it. Ride it like a wave, and see where it takes you.

Today, it's taking me to the Botanic Gardens, and maybe Indian food, and into a screenplay, a series outline, and a musical. 

And today, I hope it also leads me to love and acceptance and change of a positive nature, in the spirit of MLK. He lived in rough times. He dealt with way more than I have had to deal with. And yet, he exuded love and possibility. 

Here's a song. It's Sam Cooke singing Jesus Gave Me Water.