"So I'm lying here staring at the ceiling tiles and I'm thinking about what to think about. Just listening and relistening to Smiley Smile and I wonder if this is some kind of creative drought."
Its one of my favorite lines from a song by the Barenaked Ladies. The famous Beach Boy Brian Wilson is lying in bed, when he's not playing in the sand box that he had built in his living room. He' just experienced a nervous breakdown after trying to compete with The Beatles as they released Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Brian was writing Smile as the follow up to their album Pet Sounds which is considered one of the greatest of all time but he hit a wall and never finished it.
His mental health deteriorated, he withdrew from the public and it took him years to get over it.
I understand.
I've done lots of cool things, been to fantastic places, met incredible people, achieved virtually all of my goals and won many awards.
The cool things are memories now. So are the places. Most of the people are busy with their own lives and we can look one another up on the Internet if we miss the friendship we used to share. The accomplishments are not as important as they once were and the awards are in boxes at my Mother's house.
Well, Cassidy does have this silver plate with my name engraved on it to serve her Barbie dolls food. I got it a few weeks ago in Memphis for stuff I used to do and she asked me if she could have it. She's having more fun with it than I ever will.
I have been to the mountain top ... and it's not all that.
It's mostly occupied by people who believe they're better than anyone else. The live in gated communities and private clubs. I once longed to be one of them and then I was and now I don't care anymore.
As I age certain things are becoming more precious. This wonderful island I live on remains The Promised Land. The Carnival of Friends may as well be The Beloved Community. Sarah is love personified. The kids are the joy of life and the girls are unexpected blessings. The things I believe are not as many as they used to be.
Sometimes I stare at Goddess, the dog who has shared the pleasure and the pain with me, as she sleeps at my feet. I thank God she's still has time with me and I'm already fearful of the day she dies.
Winston, the little gay dog, prances around bringing his own joy of life into our house.
But I know nothing last forever. Goddess will indeed die and my heart will break again and I will sob uncontrollably. I've done that before and as sad as it is, I'll do it again.
In the meantime I'm hugging my dog and friend on this wonderful warm and Sunday morning. Then I'm going to wake Sarah with kisses. And I want to talk to the kids today. Mom's coming home and I want to talk to her too. And the girls are all up to something. And Winston the little gay dog, will make me verbalize his family lineage.
Sunday is reserved for these things.
