Thursday, February 19, 2009

The final 25 Irreverant, Inappropriate and Too Random (7 to follow, I forgot 7)

25. The number twenty-five conjures up in me random thoughts such as; being married for 25 years. Although I am married spiritually for 27 years, I must say it is not in the tradional way my little girl Jane wanted. It is a compromise. I didnt grab that brass rail (thank-god) I remember that was a VERY tacky bar in London, skanky. I have never been there thank goodness. To this date I read from the LFpress all kinds of news reports about obscene behaviour there. East ender. It was a place to avoid. Accept for my musician cum husband by proxy (I will tell you what that means later). Leonard Long did play the east end circuit. He did play the local cable tv music which played over and over again until you could sing Proud Mary backwards. I guess I wanted to attach to the music. I jump never realized musicians should never be married because they are competitive, egocentric, albeit, and to be fair, way too spiritually inclined to ever touch the earth. Marriage by proxy sounds so romantic for me it is not. I wanted more than anything to be married all my life. I wanted that "White Wedding" (not the kind Billy Idol extols). I wanted commitment because I wanted divine love to last forever. I wanted to be one on one (mono et mono) with my hub. I wanted all of it. I wanted it now (then). What happened? Well, I lived with a musician in a cheap Westmount flat. Ok the Emerald Towers (sounds so Arthurian fantasy; it wasnt). Although it was a far cry from my life in the Cantebury Towers where my musician prince rescued me, or actually let me have the feel for my own pad. And then I got pregnant. So what to do? The parents hated my musician boyfriend as most of my boyfriends. Why? Catholic guilt. I dont know. NOt appropriate for Jane. Who cares. At 25 I settled down to the life I wanted. So the dream...of the white picket fence actually did come true, by proxy. We were (still are) of varient religions, he being Anglican and me being Catholic. I asked the minister to marry us. He said no. I just never questioned why no. I thought maybe I was satan or something, or not good enough for the church (whichever one, it is the same although). Nonetheless, 25 meant a huge failure for me. I just wasnt going to ever experience the joys of proper martial (martial arts?)relationship. Crack! Snap!Pop!
Not fair! Musicians are fickle (from my direct experience). They are way too sensitive and are usually extremely set in their ways. Luckily I know how to drive this "set" out of stubborn gig artist. I like to "mix" it up. Make it happen. Life in those bars, watching the hub gig away, was ok. It wasnt fun when I was called up to sing in public without notice the tune by Ian and Sylvia Tyson "Four Strong Winds" at Canada day. And then to have a nasty letter from SOCAN because of royalty rights. Hey! It was volunteer SOCAN! It was pro bono, free, free, free. (as I am afraid most of my life has been as a latent hippy). So nonetheless; musicians if they dont play music ARE NO LONGER HUMAN. It has been this blight that has lasted years. I must put a guitar in my hubs hands or I know what is next. I personally need it too, so dont feel bad Leonard Long. Five Man Electical Band has nothing on you (and I mean nothing!). Signs, signs, everywhere are signs! There are some good times when the music biz was beginning to take off then the guys from the Latin Quarter wanted to pull a Frank on our kybossed career. It was front page news the musical miracle genius/professor from McGill. But I would never know that glory. No not at all. It was all so what? You're a professor! To me professors were always one step down from godhood. What happened to this man? He became too human with the foible of human weakness shining thruugh, which in my mind is a good thing now. Touching base being best! Gigs at the old navy bars were a riot, literally. I met my first murderer there. Please let me not hold the guitars all night whilst accosted by dregs of societial psychopathology. Nor carry 7 foot speaker columns with Rory during blaring snowstorms in Clinton. Mitchell did warm my heart, however. I take it the on the road musician lifestyle really isnt Jajo style. Although I can relate to JD Fortune's misfortunes, I realize JD just didnt have much choice. He would be born and reborn a musician. That ain't so bad! Just not what I ever thought possible, or remotely conceiveable. jajo

No comments:

Post a Comment