Saturday, May 21, 2011

Pretty girls with faces fair, see the shine in the Black Sheep Boy

What happens when you sit and listen to Roy Harper's Stormcock? Well, you enjoy it, of course, provided you like music. In case you don't know, I like music very much, so I'm having a good time. Speaking of music, I saw Fleet Foxes earlier this week. A dirty secret of mine, in spite of enjoying music very much, is that I've never been a huge fan of live music. Often, even when it's an artist or band I really like, I silently pray for the show to hurry up and end so I can go home and do stuff I really want to do. Not sure exactly why this is - I could pontificate it over it for you, but let's not do that, shall we? Anyway, what am I getting at? Oh, the Fleet Foxes show. It was a good one. Packed house at the Orpheum, a panoply of testosterone-addled frat boy shouting and whoofing (An odd element given the band's gentle, almost hippy, vibe. I wonder if these guys thought they were at a Kid Rock show), and representative set of songs from the band's discography. So who did I go with? Well, if you're keeping tabs, I went with Aviv, Janelle, Spira, and Pam. So now that you're equipped with that info, let's move on to everyone's favorite subject: romantic love!

This morning, I was reading some Chuck Klosterman and he was riffing about how when he was younger he had idealized a woman he hadn't even met yet, had only heard about through friends, to such a degree that he was convinced she was his soul mate. Nothing came of it. I think we've all been through something like this. I know I have. I think back to Julie.

When I was in high school, I had a serious crush on her. We were juniors and I sat behind her in English class. I used to swoon whenever she'd turn around and acknowledge me. She was beautiful - wavy chestnut hair, classic features. I felt I had a chance with her; she was popular, but not much more than I was and, as it happened, we worked at the same grocery store.

I worked in the produce section and one day spilled my guts to Pete The Greek, my coworker. He seemed to know a lot about women, so I felt he was the guy to talk to. He counseled that I should tell Julie how I felt, that I should do it immediately, on that very shift. I wasn't ready to do that, but he made it clear that he'd do it for me if I didn't. So, after work, as we waited for our rides in front of the store, I asked her out. She told me she'd think about it. Not a great sign, but it wasn't a no.

The next day in class she told me she told me she couldn't, in good conscience, go out with me, because her best friend and coworker of ours, Kristen, liked me. I was not expecting this. I barely had any interaction with Kristen. I also was not attracted to her in the slightest. In retrospect, it was obvious Julie wasn't interested and was lying about Kristen. She was banking on the likelihood I wouldn't go ahead and pursue Kristen. At the time, I half suspected it was a lie, but I also suspected it was the truth and my own shit luck.

A year or so after high school, with Julie relegated to the back of my brain, I was working at a local restaurant. One day, on my way in to work, I saw an attractive woman walking. It was Julie! I had to do a double take, but I was convinced. From that point on, I would frequently see her walking alongside the road. This was torture, it rekindled old feelings and set me to pining for her again.

To complicate matters, I overheard one of the floor managers at work on the phone talking about her son's girlfriend, Julie. Yes, the same Julie. I had no beef with her son, who has since passed away, but I felt as if I was the victim of a cruel cosmic joke. Everything fell apart the day my car hit a tree.

I was driving home, the roads were covered with snow; treacherous conditions. A few streets from my house, I lost control of the car, veered off the road and hit a tree. My car was totaled. I was supposed to register for classes the following day. I didn't have the money to get a new car and pay for classes. And without a car, I wouldn't be able to get to school.

That night, Sean and I went to see a movie. He did his best to cheer me up, but it wasn't an easy task. Before the movie started, I spied Julie and my coworker's son sitting a few rows in front of us. Guess which direction my mood went.

So that punctuated my Julie experience. After that, I hardly, if ever, thought of her again. I saw her on Facebook recently. She's still a knockout. Oh, I forgot to add that shortly after seeing her at the movies, I saw her walking again. Only, upon closer inspection, I discovered that it wasn't her, had never been. This woman was a dead ringer for Julie, I could see how I mistook her. Still, what the fuck? Looking back, the whole thing was strange and unnecessary.

I never knew Julie that well. I'm sure she had no idea what I went through, had no clue about any of it beyond the night I asked her out. My feelings for her resided mostly in the realm of fantasy. Years later, I had similar feelings for another woman, but this time it was based more in reality, it was tangible. Didn't come to fruition, but it was progress. Is romantic love purely the stuff of fantasy? Is the notion of having a soul mate unrealistic?

The answer to both questions is yes, but not a hard yes. Relationships take work. They don't function well if they cull from the fairy tale rule book. In other words, they're not ethereal things. In order to succeed, they need to have weight, with feet planted firmly in the soil. Ah, but without romance, relationships become stale, business arrangements. Fuck that!

I consider myself an artist and being one, I don't have much use for the boring, the rote. I see so many relationships mired in mediocrity. Why bother? I'll leave you with the prevailing image I have of my deceased grandparents. I used to spend a lot of time with them at their cabin up in Maine. Almost every day at sunset, they'd sit on the dock by the lake with their arms around each other and watch the sun go down. Despite whatever difficulties they may have had throughout the course of their days, they always made time for that.

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