Right Here, Right Now.
I'm not really sure why it's relevant or what Miss Lainey's trying to communicate. I ain't left anyone or been left that I'm aware of in the last 5 years. I don't count those online foibles and missteps, because Covid Time make fools and scoundrels of most us at some point and the experience really is middling and ersatz at best, making a connection in the digital world. As one of my favourite B movies 'The Misadventures of Margaret' (adapted from Cathleen Schine's novel _Rameau's Niece_) reminds me 'people f@ck idiots and strangers everyday.'
But yeah, I can actually hitch a trailer to a 2" hitch, change a tire and I know how to fish. Maybe I'm supposed to go camping this trip? And I do know how to do without what I can't have, mostly. Coveting what others have is not a a pasttime I've ever enjoyed.
But the song did make me think about past loves and intentions. About how I'vs never entered into a relationship not assuming it wasn't going to go the distance. Same with employment. I start every job assuming it's going to work out for the best. And it mostly has.
I met a boy once on the Boston to Albany Express, in the cafe. We spent an evening together then carried on an affair of letters for several months. I spent another weekend with him in Boston that summer before it ended in tears threw weeks before my 23rd birthday.
There were three of us: L, E, and myself. E is in Portland, Oregon. L is married to a lovely guy and lives in Waynesville and is still one of the most fiercely loyal and exacting people I know. That autumn, we spent our time sussing out the perfect place for martinis. I started dating a trombone player, probably too old and yet too immature for me. When it finally ended, I had packed myself off to Prague, knowing I needed space. Prague wasn't my first choice; that had been Bucharest, a city I still have yet to visit. But my mother was adamant and I still hadn't fully accepted I was capable of imposing my agency to create change, or chart my own path.
But that autumn of martinis and late nights, of dancing, staying out too late and too long, I wonder now, what would be the drop-in point if I could slip back into a time-wrinkle, 'Being Erica' style. What would I alter, change, or leave the same.
And in 20 years time, what will the drop in point be for this chapter? I don't know...I kind of feel like Cassandra Wilson's more appropriate, right now, whilst my girls and I get ready to kick back with a long neck and evening gown because it's a Thursday and the week has already been ridiculous and because we can. I do love dressing up for no real reason.
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