Friday, July 26, 2019

January to July in the Blink of an Eye

These days, we fly from January to July in the blink of an eye.

Even while producing factitiously formed frolics of rhyme, which, in and of itself, might be considered a caustic crime.  

Sorry…once you get mixed up in a cycle of random rhymes and sophomoric sophistry…not to mention atypical alliteration…it becomes a bit of a treacherous trick to essentially exit.

But I will persevere, if only so I can be done with this before lunchtime…both mine and yours.

Not to mention August.

So, let’s not…mention August…at least not yet…not until it’s time.

Which is where I was heading with this…again…until, you know, the desultory detour.

Time, time and more time.

It all comes back to time.

Time and time again.

And I’ve been wasting a lot of it…time, that is…trying to figure out where it all goes, and why it goes so fast.

Not that I need tell you.

 I just did a “time” keyword search of past stories and discovered…well…I waste a lot of time, discussing time in some form or another. 

I guess I missed my calling as a watch maker. 

But I’ve made some progress in my temporal temporality fight, over time.

I’ve figured out you can’t really worry about it, too much.

Because worrying about time, means we think we know just how much time we actually have.

Which we don’t; much like when the teacher would suddenly yell out, “Pencils down!” and we still had 3 or 4 math problems to finish, out of 5.

Or maybe that was just me.

If I had spent less time worrying about how I was going to answer 5 math problems—on a Tuesday, no less—and more time focusing on the matters at hand, I might have finished two of them…at least.

Instead, I just complained I didn’t have enough time because if I did, I was sure the 
answers would miraculously appear, at least once Mary Buttercup Pennyloafers moved her elbow.

But that’s probably not a great analogy.

Especially since it doesn’t rhyme.

It’s just a fact, time is here to stay…or not stay…at least the way we would like it.

Think about it…don’t think about it.

Write about it…don’t write about it.

Complain about it…don’t complain about it.

The bottom line is…there’s nothing you can do about it.

Despite Scotty Fitz’s great literary summation at the end of Gatsby.

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

Nice, huh?

But frustrating, as well, huh?

The kind of line folks have been discussing and deciphering for…. you guessed it…a long time.

What did he mean, what was his message…what if I don’t have oars…should I buy a motor boat?

Personally, my theory is, he was just running out of time and needed to end the thing.

Zelda was giving him a hard time about all that clicking and clacking making her crazy.

“This works as good as anything…and it sounds smart. Now go load up the car and let’s 23 skidooo to the beach!”

Or something like that.

What…you have a better theory?

It’s all about perception.  Time is just a concept. It doesn’t exist. No past, no tomorrow…just now.

Unless you’re like my neighbor, who still lives in the 60’s trying to get through "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" because he doesn’t realize his Hi-Fi’s been skipping for the last 50 years.

It’s all in our heads.

I know that…I honestly do.

Yet, still I fight, boat against the current…yada yada yada.

But I’m trying…I really am.  And I have to say it’s a lot more pleasant to go with the current instead of against it.

The currents gonna go where the current wants to go.

Just like Twitter.

I might as well jump on a nice, tasty wave and go along with it.

And now I’m in trouble—again—for losing track of time, while conjuring this, and forgetting to make my morning “Z check in” call, to let her know I was able to get my shoes tied and my underwear on correctly…I think…but won’t know for sure until after my second cup of coffee.

And really…what the heck is "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" really about?

I guess about 17 minutes.

Talk about stopping time.

Ahhhhh….the 60’s…where anything made sense…maybe even this.

Oooops…there I go again….


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  1. Your last line makes more sense than Scott's. Oops! I bet you disagreed with the teach a lot. I did. I think I wrote a masterpiece critique of Ulysses. Wish I still had it. The teach was mad because it was his Bible.

    1. My theiss was Ulysses was based on an unfortunate typo, the Irish are pron to moke. The real title was actually
      U-useless but was left as Ulysses since James found the reprinting costs prohibitive especially since he felt no one would read it, let alone notice...another assumption Irish authors are also pron to moke....

  2. So then he wrote Finnegan's Wake, which was all typos and nothing but. Maybe there's a chance for me.

    1. I wrote a short story once called Jake's Wake It's on the page here, somwhere up on the right hand side. Probably the same thing applies.


  3. my 14 year old matty and i were in barnes and noble earlier and we came across the Woodstock table holding beautiful vintage vinyl, he picked up the grateful dead. he said, mom, is your record player in the attic? i want to put it in my room and listen to records.
    he's a music lover, music from all decades, i think he knows the lyrics of almost any song, he loves the beatles (not my fave) and queen, and he sang along to toto's Africa on our way home. every. stinkin. word. music is timeless, the way we listen to it not so much. what was your first album? -nik

    1. I find a lot of new teens want to experience the vinyl way back machine. Just like my generation wanted to rediscover the gramophone. Our grammar school nuns used to tell us to get out the "Victrola" whenever they wanted to break out the old Rudy Valle 78's. My first Rock n Roll album (I don't think Russ Tamblin's Tom Thumb counts) was "Meet the Beatles!" of course. We would practice being the Beatles in my friends garage after school. even to the point of practicing climbing out the window to escape all the screaming girls chasing us down the street. You would have to have seen "A Hard Days Night" and "Help" to understand that. But my first favorite Rock and Roll song was "I Will Follow Him" by Little Peggy March in 1963 who was all of 15. A match made in heaven for a 9 year old. On family trips, whenever it came on the radio I would belt out on the top of my Lungs..."I love him ...I love him...and where he goes I'll follow, I'll follow...I will follow him..." Which disturbed my dad on soooo many levels.... Look up Little Peggy on Google. She did a 50th anniversary You Tube Version in 2013 and still looks and sounds great!

  4. oh the insanity of being a beatle! that's hysterical that you practiced climbing out the window! i think you need to reinact and video that and your version of little peggy's song.
    "i will follow him" is a classic. our aunt and uncle used to take us to doo wop shows and many of the original artists were still performing.
    i found a victrola that i may order for matt, i wonder if the old lp's will still be any good. stay tuned....

  5. Re Jake's Wake. It's perfect for the New Yorker.
    And Hallmark too.
    Go for it!


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