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Drop-D Blogging

How then, is it possible, to be abjectly miserable in a moment, yet still look back on that moment fondly and with longing some time later? Does time distort or lend perspective? And if time is an illusion, could neither be true? It’s all in line with my new commitment to commas and question marks. I’m tuned into some fairly smart people lately, many of whom are questioning reality to some degree. Turns out 98.6 is just the average. Truth is up for grabs. Institutions and those in charge of their upkeep are demonstrably untruthful. There is no losing argument so ubiquitous as “my guy is right.” It’s the guy in question that’s relevant. We’ve become comfortable with this reality in politicians, but when it extends to doctors, scientists, sports heroes, and brothers, the horizon can go askew. Cut to Julie Kavner telling Woody Allen “listen, kid, I think you’ve snapped your cap.” Time for a few weeks in Bermuda, indeed. If it were only safe to begin the boarding process.

Colin Hay, the Scottish musician who once fronted the annoying band ‘Men At Work’ yet turned out to be a bit of a genius, has this great songI Just Don’t Think I’ll Ever Get Over You.” He plays it in an open, droning, drop-D guitar tuning, and it doesn’t have the kind of snappy, ca-chunk style rock n roll lyrics that I typically glom onto. But the airy, poignant, somewhat ambiguous way it carries on feels perfect for these times. Open tuning is a kind of drug for guitar players, a way of instantly changing musical perspective. Hay’s wife describes it well as “vague chords.” Keith Richards, who favors open-G, is perhaps the most famous practitioner, so it can ca-chunk just as effectively.  Anyway, it’s a beautiful tune. The “you” he can’t get over, like the tuning, feels open for interpretation: a woman, a dog, a place .. booze, chocolate, heroin. The song isn’t specific, though he does mention drinking “good coffee” every morning, and that grounds it (insert smiley emoticon.) There is no time marker so specific as when coffee bumps up to vice of choice. Perspective supplants vitality and jagged bits on the long road behind soften.

Blah blah blah, Ginger. As airy-fairy, hippie-dippy as the preceding may read, it’s actually less trippy than what I’ve really been pondering. I should emphasize ‘pondering’ as it’s more muse than prophet. And it’s the cereal of sci-fi, larping sorts, which has never been my breakfast of choice. Still, this idea of the ‘simulation,’ as it were, feels more plausible. “There, I said it” to quote the late, great Nancy Paweski. And, I’m using “as it were” even after ingesting strong coffee, so it’s all over. Still, has there ever been a time when ideas like free will and individual existence felt more tenuous? Or, put another way, is there a limit to how much absurdity can be ramped up? Look for both questions on the November ballot. As Governor William J Lepetomane says to Hedley Lamarr “haven’t you taken a giant leap away from your good senses?” But then they could never make that movie today. Maybe keep the open tuning, but switch over to G and some Keith Richards.

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