Monday, January 10, 2011

What Do I Want?

The song says, screamed by Grant Hart with vocal cord bruising intensity over a roaring wall of guitar distortion and furiously pounding drums:


Simple, yes? Almost ridiculous in its simplicity? Perhaps.

But wait...there's more...and no, I am not selling a set of Ginsu knives...

On a good day, I kind of shake my head and chuckle, as there is some wry humor to a song like this one. If a vocalist could scream with his tongue firmly wedged in his cheek, this is how it would sound.

On a bad day, this song has the ability to break me out of whatever foul mood I'm in. Though the inducement of laughter was probably not what Mr. Hart had in mind at the time of composition, this is what it does for me. But it only works in this way when I'm in a ridiculously self-pitying mood. Sometimes it takes more than one run-through -- like, maybe a dozen, because the song only lasts about a minute-and-a-half. If I can, at some point during multiple playbacks, laugh at the sheer absurdity of everything, then I know the bad mood was not as bad as I thought, and I can put things back in perspective.

On a really bad day, I wonder, what, indeed, do I want? What would make me happy? And in response I feel as if I could scream "nothing, nothing, nothing" at the top of my lungs until my throat exploded. I could probably outscream Mr. Hart, and that's saying something!

Today, what do I want? Things that are simply impossible to get.

I want the life I envisioned in my optimistic youth, in which I am successful as a musician and novelist, published, recorded, and happily earning my keep with no bullshit from the outside world. (Epic Fail.)

I want to have raised children who are happy, confident, and growing towards success in life on all levels. (I did my best, but...Epic Fail.)

I want parents who loved me and taught me all things were possible, and believed in me. (BEYOND Epic Fail.)

I want a mother who does not believe, and regularly state her belief, that I am the scarlet whore of Babylon, and my husband is a man to be pitied. (Aaaaaaggghhhhh...)

I want a husband who does not appear to be married to telescopes and football -- not that I would deny him those things, which he does enjoy, but -- all things in moderation, yes? -- and also, for the record, I would really like it if he did not have cancer and an uncertain future at the moment.

I have more time to finish writing this, but...I owe, I owe, so off to work I go. Perhaps I will have time to finish later today...

However, as part of the point of this exercise is to keep my thoughts brief and concise...perhaps not. Tune in again later...

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