Soundtracked

Your Auntie Grizelda

         

"'People stupid. The dream didn't leave, people just don't know a nightmare when they right in the middle of one.' -Marlon James. Your thoughts on this quote..."

Wow Lyn's a Witchy Woman ...excellent find! Gonna hafta read up a little on this guy, fo' sho'. Anyway, hey y'all! I'm gonna start with this for the "Blogging Circle of Friends "  because I'm not quite sure how I wanna get into the part for "The Soundtrack of Your Life"  just yet (Spoiler Alert!! It's gonna be sad.).

This is pretty deep but in a sense it's also very true. It's almost like Stockholm Syndrome in a way, if that makes sense (and in my head it does, at least). Take just about any sort of depressing situation you're in, in all phases of life. Maybe you've got a shitty job but at least it pays the bills, or you're in a lackluster relationship but hey, it's a warm body to wake up next to. Or...worst case scenario: you're livin' on the streets and can't get back on your feet (because maybe you don't want to, or just can't). It reminds me a little of one of my all-time favorite lyric quotes: "One man's ceiling is another man's floor"  ...and maybe I've overthinking this now a little bit, so it's time for another paragraph, to reel myself back in.

So let's assume the definition of nightmare is fluid; that it's a little different for each of us. We also have different levels of what makes us comfortable and how much comfort we feel, along with what we can tolerate. There are grey areas where we might not be comfortable with what we're tolerating but depending on the situation is will dictate the response.

Now, go back to the dreams you had as a child, teenager, and young adult. What do you wanna be when you grow up? Where do you see yourself in 10 years' time? And add in all your standards, your own quirks, what you like and don't like about whatever it is you're dreaming of, and how you stack up and fit (or don't fit) in with it. Sure, for some, dreams do come true! Lucky you! And if so, you're probably not reading this anyway, so fuck you. Because for most of us, life isn't set up anymore for our dreams to become the reality we live in. Corporate America will stifle you as soon as you hit mid-management. You're not gonna be bangin' supermodels on a yacht. We have a tendency to dream big, only to settle into our realities until someone's pickin' out a pine box for us. And that's where the grey areas get murkier.

Some will trudge through life happily in the reality they've accepted. And that's fine if it works for them. Others may grow bitter and cold, despondent that the life he's stuck with is the same life the other guy is enjoying. And he tries and tries and tries to make it work and find happiness in it, but there's always another setback, another bill, another promotion denied...always somethin'. And that's his life, until he retires and dies a lonely old man. His big dreams after finishing school never came close to materializing, and now he's struggling to find happiness in even the most bountiful of life's little treasures. He's living a fucking nightmare, but he's basically married to it because of the one thing it provides that keeps him goin': a paycheck. Sure, he could find a better job and eventually hit the same ceiling, but by the time he comes home he's just too aggravated and tired and that's that.

Which brings me back to the point and the quote prompt. It boils down to complacency and how when shit starts to get out of hand sometimes it's easier and more convenient to figure out how to manage in "the new now" than to fix the issue/problem. We become blind to the problem for what it is, and focus on how to get around it instead of the cause of it and a proper fix. And don't bullshit me...we're all guilty of this at some point in our lives. For example: your car starts making a small but funky noise that you can't quite pinpoint its whereabouts. Sure, you could take it to a mechanic, but that costs money...so instead you turn your stereo up louder. Of course, the real nightmare is when that noise turns into a $1500 repair bill down the road, and maybe if that's as close as you can get to that car being your Dream Car, well, now all you're worrying about is how fucked you are and for how long.

And in summation, people actually can become self-made nightmares. They don't know it because they refuse to acknowledge it, and as it keeps getting worse, they just keep readjusting and acclimating to their problems until the levee breaks. They max out every inch of the grey areas in the intersection of comfort and tolerance. Keep pullin' that thread, and someday you're gonna have enough to knit yourself a noose.

         

Man...today we lost another good one, and this one is really kinda special to me. It was reported that Peter Tork of The Monkees passed away today at age 77   from a rare form of salivary cancer. Fuckin' cancer, man. Always snuffin' out the good ones, 'cuz Big Pharm just loooooves that money associated with keepin' people alive in suffering as long as they can, rather than using science to eradicate this shit .Don't get me started on how much it pisses me off. And "Guilty Pleasures" isn't really a worthy Soundtrackers category anymore, is it? Haven't we all agreed at one time or another that we love what we love, and aren't ashamed about it? I thought we accomplished that back in the Beth days.

Anyway, it's especially sad for me because The Monkees were my first concert, probably in the summer of '85 or '86. It was around that time when MTV and Nickelodeon started showing reruns from their tv show in the 60's, and because my brother and I weren't old enough yet to be trusted to be left alone during the summer, we'd go to our grandmother's house (it helped that she also had cable, which we did not have). And one week out of every summer, our aunt in Connecticut would fly us down for a week. She was awesome...a sweet condo, she'd take us to cool places and buy us stuff, and she had a waterbed! That blew our little 80's minds! It was her that took us to see The Monkees, at a little amphitheater with a rotating stage. "Weird Al" Yankovic was the opening act, and of course because I had some of his cassette tapes too as a fart joke enthusiast preteen, he put on a fun show. I had a camera and everything, but blew all my film on him.

Then The Monkees came on, and they played all the hits of course (minus Mike Nesmith, which kinda sucked but whatever), and we sang along and loved every single minute of it. First concert, one of your absolute favorite bands, the cool and fun aunt... that's legit amazeballs yo. To finally see live music instead of just rockin' my mom's albums on vinyl, or catching a little tape hiss on cassette, that was the real deal.

Sadly, my aunt passed in the early 90's (again, motherfuck cancer) and the band again faded into the dustbin of our adolescence. They'd occasionally creep out here and there for something, but whatevs. It wasn't until the late 90's or early 2000's when, at work one day, our supervisor came in (and I don't think he ever really cared for me). He was high-energy and herky-jerky but beloved by the old-timers in the company. Somehow we got to talking about The Monkees, and he was a huge, HUGE fan (he was easily a generation behind me, so it made sense). And in consumer electronics, our slow-dying fad at that time was the Mini-Disc. We were all required to keep an MD on us at all times to demo it (mine was a beautiful mix I recorded on the job when it was slow...it had everything: classic rock, hip hop, R&B, current alt-rock, techno...this way if I was demo-ing speakers, I could pick a song that played on the customer's taste). I had a CD/MD recording deck at home, a portable one, and an in-dash player in my car. The supervisor (known as "The Wheel", because he was always moving, always rollin') went out of his way to make me a Monkees MD...hadn't heard them in so long, and yet the songs still held up some 15 years later.

"Your Auntie Grizelda"   -The Monkees

"Oh, no, don't look at me like Auntie Grizelda. It takes much more to be someone of your own.
You've got to make it free from Auntie Grizelda, or just like her you'll have to make it alone."

Kinda funny how in my head that sorta ties into the "Blogging Circle of Friends "  portion of this entry...the full lyrics basically are about someone not knowing her boundaries and basically teaching the nephew to be almost like her, and the narrator is calling him out on it. Like "Bruh, you don't know it but you're living in a nightmare my man. You can't see it because you've accepted it, but we see it, and you're wack as fuck yo. If you don't cut that shit out and get right, you're gonna end up just like her." Don't wanna get too complacent with her, cuz she sounds miserable (and her fudge prolly sucks too). But what do I know? I'm just a fan, with the ability to weave prompts occasionally .

HOLDUPWAITAMINUTE: Wasn't gonna do this part because I didn't think I'd have anything to say...but I've just been handed some BREAKING NEWS!! Apparently my book, 100, is now available in New York City at the Barnes & Noble at Union Square!! Can I get a WHAT WHAT?! from the crowd?? You dope-ass people deserve some dope-ass news, and you're hearing it here first (before it goes on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook ). This is where it started. This is where it all began. If you're in NYC, show me some love and show you with the book!! Spread that love!! #NorbAF

Ok...well, I guess dinner can wait while I share the good news...guess this wasn't a sad-ending entry after all! Let's all be joyful   and take a moment to be thankful for what we have, cuz no doubt someone has it worse. No nightmares (hopefully) up in here, and up in there (wherever you are). Peace, be joyful (cuz that shit spreads), and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

"For Pete's Sake"   -The Monkees

"Love is understanding, we gotta be free!"