Blue-Footed Musings

“Life it seems to fade way, drifting further every day…” Those are the first two lines of Metallica’s Fade to Black. I heard it on the car radio the other day, and it made me think of my old friend Phil. He’s been on my mind a lot lately, because I found out recently that he died from cancer earlier this month.

I’m struggling to process the news. I hadn’t seen him in a long time, but we were good friends as teenagers. Phil had a rare charisma. He’s the only person I’ve ever known who was Trouble but worth it. My mother even liked him. He was also the only person who ever called me Kare-Bear, and the only one who could use that nickname for me without it sounding ridiculous. He taught me how to play the drums. Our birthdays were close together, so I know that he just had one, too. His last.

Facebook might be shit most of the time, but this is one case where I’m glad that it exists. It’s only because of Facebook that I know anything about Phil’s life after I left town. He was a special effects make-up artist, which was an excellent career choice for him, and he was successful at it. And though I’m sad to know that he’s gone, I thank Facebook for that knowledge, too. I just wish I’d known that he was dying. I can’t say whether or not I would have reached out, but I would have liked to have known that I was running out of time for it. But I guess that is the lesson we’re supposed to take from death–we’re always running out of time.

RIP, Phil. Gone too soon. Never forgotten.

I’ve had a reusable Target bag with a seam rip in it for years and years, and OMG that thing was such a nuisance. I couldn’t in good conscience throw it away, but I also didn’t want to use it, because the hole was big enough for things to fall out of. It looked just like my other reusable Target bags, so it occasionally migrated into the trunk and got used (perilously!). The rest of the time, it sat in the closet or in a random pile, taking up space to no purpose.

Today I saw it sitting in a pile and decided I’d put up with it long enough. I got out my sewing kit and finally sewed that rip up. Had I used anything other than invisible thread, I don’t think I’d be able to stand what a messy job I did of it. But it’s done, and the stitches seem to be holding. So hooray! That’s one less thing on my unwritten but ever-present and weighty mental list of Things I Ought to Do Someday.

• My birthday was this week. It arrived while I was sleeping, and it left while I was sleeping. Is that a metaphor?
• It was my 49th birthday. I am on the cusp of 50. As I’ve repeatedly told my husband, I would like for us to spend the coming year trying to “clean our plate” before our 50th birthdays. That is to say, it’s time to get rid of all our old, unused stuff, and to finish off any long-postponed tasks, and to dump any unrealistic dreams that we’ve been holding onto out of habit. We have no control over time except how well we use it. We need to focus on using our time well.
• I sometimes refer to myself as an “old lady.” I don’t actually think that I’m an old lady, but TBH I sometimes think that I look like one and/or act like one. I should probably be more careful about that. I am younger now than I will ever be again, and settling prematurely (ha-ha) into the mindset and/or lifestyle of the elderly will only erode whatever youth I have left. So I’m not going to call myself old anymore, not even in jest.

• Marshall’s Covid test came back negative, and he can return to school tomorrow. Yay!
• My husband got our well pump replaced today, and for soooooo much less than the price he was quoted the other day (good job, Honey!). Unfortunately the well had to be chlorinated as part of the pump replacement process, and the system must be thoroughly flushed before we can start drinking the water again. So, for now we have to use bottled water. But, on the bright side, we’re ordering out for dinner.

I could forget that it’s 9/11 and make it through the entire day without being sad, if the country would allow me to (it won’t). But, at least the front page of the newspaper is devoted to that old psychic wound and not a new one. That is to say, no news is good news. Or as Gary Gnu used to say, “No gnews is good gnews.”

• I found out today that my new neighbor went to Boston University and graduated two years after I did. It’s not unusual to run into another BU alum (it’s a large school), or even that unusual to meet one who was there at the same time, but it is always nice to find things in common with other people.
• I woke up (and got up) before my alarm went off this morning. That would suggest that I’m adapting to the new morning schedule. But, I neglected to eat until 2:00 in the afternoon, which would suggest that I’m not adapting well.
• I wrote a couple of pages for my novel today. It wasn’t deliberate. It just sort of happened. I noticed that there was a file on my computer called “So-and-so’s death seems a bit sudden and cliche.” The next thing I knew, I was writing a less sudden and (I hope) less cliche death for her. She doesn’t have to die, but she has to leave, because her absence is necessary for the development of another character. Trying out different ways for her to leave is a good writing exercise, whether or not it yields any good writing.

I haven’t been getting any new e-mail from one of my e-mail accounts. My husband says it’s because the e-mail provider has changed servers and my e-mail settings have to be updated accordingly. That makes sense, but can he explain how I am traveling backward in time? Suddenly I’m getting e-mails from 2019, and oh no! The summer camp color run has been canceled! As a traveler from a dark future, I can’t help but laugh at the people of 2019 and their little disappointments. How naive they are, like country bumpkins who have never been to the Big City. Their innocence is unspoiled by any hint of what’s coming for them in 2020, when everything will be cancelled, not just the color run, not just the summer camp, but all the activities and all the social gatherings. Honestly, the summer of 2019 didn’t seem so great when I first experienced it, but it feels different on this second time through–safer, kinder, easier. I almost wish that I could stay, but there’s all that unread e-mail waiting for me in the future….