I thought I was born "lucky", until I discovered my real name was working as a saleswoman in a large department store in New York. I must look the lady up sometime to ask for it back.
Today I went horseback riding. As usual I listened to the music of "Cole Porter" on my "boombox" - I know it's conceived in some quarters as antiquated, however, I still believe nothing beats a boombox at full volume in public places with the loudspeakers stuck to your ear.
My horse, whose name is "Rock Band Groupie" doesn't share my opinion. As my horse, and I, joyfully sauntered over hill and dale - I'd never met Hill and Dale before, but I think we ruined their picnic - Rock Band Groupie and I (and anyone within 10 kilometres) listened to, "What is this thing called Love?" and "I've got you under my Skin". Anyway, everything was just dandy.
However, trouble flared when the track changed to, "I get a kick out of you". My horse threw me, put on his top hat, and started to play the piano. I wouldn't normally raise an eyebrow - not when it's sound asleep - but Rock Band Groupie hasn't the best singing voice, and he was performing in one of my favourite restaurants. Afterward, I had to carry him home; he was tired and drunk. His version of the "Horse With No Name" had some people in tears. Is it any wonder I've baggy eyes, and I don't even know who owns them?
Reflections: I suppose we could blame childhood fairy tales - the Prince and the Princess live happy ever after - and illusions fostered in culture(s) concerning the "myth of romantic love". Sadly, some people do not meet or satisfy each other's needs, and they fall out of love. The honeymoon period ends. The myth perpetuated that there is only one woman on this earth meant for one man - and it is written in the stars - would be laughable, if it wasn't so tragic.
The past happened as it happened, and there is nothing we can do about it. I believe the Persian poet "Omar Khayyam" was right when he said, "The moving finger writes; and, having writ, moves on: nor all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all your tears wash out a word of it." Then maybe he was wrong. Just a thought.
4 comments:
Again, beautiful reflections.
I laughed in the teacher's lounge with the revelation of "hill and dale", but I was alone, so it went over well in the end.
I think the only thing you lack in your relationship with your reader is a certain trust.
I feel I'll never know any more of you, the person, even if I read what you write every day for a hundred years, and while there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, it does create a tension of sorts in commenting on your work, and your responses, and your writing itself, which, ingenious as it is, tends to throw factual credibility out the window, and we, your readership, jump after it hoping to catch up, but enjoying the flight you lead us on nonetheless; of course, I can only speak for myself. And I'm probably mistaken anyhow.
Still, I'd but you a drink if we met in a pub and listen to your stories, though you may ever remain a stranger.
Cheers.
I literally Laughed. Out. Loud. riding over Hill and Dale and ruining their picnic. Funny. Funny.
Your reflection about the Myth of Romance. I don't think there is only one man to one woman. I think we have it in our power to love unconditionally many people, guy or girl, and though we feed off the abilities to love forever, in all reality we all have faults and it's our own love that we fight not the other persons. Damn, now I feel the need to post about the Myth of Romantic Love. If I do as some point, would you mind?
Hi Foster,
Thanks for your comments. As usual, very perceptive. Again, thanks.
Despite all knowledge we know very little, especially about ourselves.
Regards
Ronnie
I came by way of Hillbilly Duhn (speaking of which I have to remember to coast back her way and leave a comment in reference to this).
As somone who grew up abused and seriously thought love was what you found at the end of a fist...It took me years (up to 6 years ago at least to break that habit). I've learned love is whatever you make of it. If you give in to the fairytales and unrealistic mutterings of poets - you're probably going to find yourself seriously lacking your ideal love.
I've been fighting my way out of boxes people tend to want to keep me in for a while now. I'm not a victim, I am all those things I want to believe about myself and despite my deafness, I am far from silent. And no I don't think there is a male version of me out there (thankfully).
I think the fault lies in trying to find someone who fits your idea of love instead of seeing them and appreciating the unique persona they are. I could be wrong - then again I've been breaking ALOT of taboos lately (winks). (Hugs)Indigo
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