Straight Life

Yesterday, before I went to see Juno, I bumped in to my old chum Nick. We’ve known each other since we were seven or so, and somehow seem to have stayed friends through the years... if you ever read me writing about role-playing games, stand-up or sitcom writing, then you can bet that Nick is somewhere in there, between the lines... we always shared roughly the same aspirations, as far as writing and comedy went, although he is far more musical than I am, and that adds a lot his act. Sadly, at some point, he decided to “sell out” (as the kids would say) and become a teacher, shelving his slacker self, and becoming a Mister.

The school keeps him so busy, I haven’t seen him since his Halloween party, and in that time he’s not only been promoted, but also got engaged. Well, technically it’s not “promotion” as such... but he’s no longer a Newly Qualified Teacher, and therefore less of a “flight risk”, so they’ve bunged him more money, and more responsibility (he even has to organise a field trip... eep!). And the engagement isn’t such a shock, since he’s been dating his fiancee for the past five years, and living with her for the majority of that time. I take some pride in knowing that I was part of the chorus that encouraged him to ask her out in the first place... although I certainly shan’t be offended if he finds someone saner to act as Best Man, when the wedding itself rolls around.

They’re looking at next Easter, although nothing has been planned or booked as yet. Looking ahead a year terrifies me because... well, whenever we meet he asks what I’ve been up to, and the answer is always roughly the same: A bit of writing, a bit of drawing, and a bit of meditation. He is playing The Game of Life the way it’s supposed to be played. He mucked around for the first twenty years, had a laugh, did some travelling, then settled down and established a reliable income before he hit The Big Three-Oh-No!, so that he could then ease into marriage and perhaps even, gulp, start a family. Meanwhile I, er, went the route of the “mystic”, having traumatic body-horror experiences, practising  sexual abstinence and solitary self-examination. Fun! There’s a great bit in Aleister Crowley’s book on Magick where he points out that many of the world’s great spiritual leaders and prophets paid their dues in The Wilderness... but he also points out that a lot of random nutjobs have had their “wilderness years” too! Crowley himself died alone and unloved in a boarding house in Hastings, so what are we to make of that? From summoning angels to studying the pyramids to starting a sex cult to sitting in a tatty armchair watching the rain pour down over an English seaside town. How the wicked have fallen!

My melancholy mood wasn’t much enhanced when a wedding-themed trailer started running, accompanied by Regina Spektor’s Fidelity...

“I never loved nobody fully
Always one foot on the ground
And by protecting my heart truly
I got lost in the sounds
I hear in my mind,

all these voices
I hear in my mind,

all these words
I hear in my mind,

all this music
And it breaks my heart”

In his blog Kirk confessed to spying on a neighbour’s home, which he described as “the ice house” because of the perfectly white walls and furniture, and general lack of bonhomie within. The yuppie  house in Juno is much the same, with all the husband’s cool pop-culture clutter consigned to the basement, as if to quarantine it. Nothing must be allowed to infect the Feng Shui! In many ways that is my Dream Home. I’ve always lived in clutter... that’s how I was raised... so, to escape that is to escape the fate that befell my parents (loveless, dysfunctional, passive-aggressive sham of a marriage). I’m also ripe for some hen-pecking. Part of me craves it. I operate best when I’m being directed, as evidenced by my grades at university... with set exam and essay questions, I’m an A student... but if I have to choose the subject and question myself, I can only scrape a B. I am smart, and I’m funny, and I’m creative, and I’m thoughtful... but I’m also a lazy swine, with no material ambition, and a head full of worry and doubt. Give me a box, and I’ll think outside it for you... give me free reign and I’ll most likely take a nap.

I’m still chewing over that horoscope I had about “opposites attracting”. The problem is figuring out how “opposite” the ideal partner should be. I’m probably not such a good fit for that the Ice House, or for the sort of woman who would require it. I want to believe that there are women out there who are creative, but driven... harsh, but fair... demanding, but forgiving... who’ll drive me and inspire me, and “keep my fingernails clean” (to borrow a line from Weezer). That’s probably opposite enough, at the end of the day. And they are out there, of course, but they aren’t here. And without someone like that in my life, then it really doesn’t feel like much of a “life” at all. Today’s horo encouraged Geminis to think deeply about the meaning of their lives... but currently mine has none. I like to kid myself that I’m merely in the “pit lane”, getting my wheels changed and figuring out a strategy for the laps ahead... but spend too long in the pit lane, and you’re out of the race, right?

The Tao cautions us to avoid that which might trouble our hearts... but if you don’t trouble it from time to time, then how do you know it’s still beating?  There’s a scene in the film Breathless, where a woman asks her man if (given the choice) he would rather feel pain or nothing at all. He scoffs at the question, replying that he would rather feel pleasure. Well, yes... but that wasn’t what she was asking. Do I envy my friends? Of course! Do I have anything to show for the time I’ve spent alone? Nothing tangible, no.

“Suppose I never ever met you
Suppose we never fell in love
Suppose I never ever let you kiss me

so sweet and so so-o-o-o-oft
Suppose I never ever saw you
Suppose you'd never ever called
Suppose I kept on singing love songs
Just to break my own fall...”