Dear Friends,
I am thankful that most of the really dumb things I have done have only impacted me. Not all, of course, but most of them are things that I have to live with and no one else will ever be affected by ever again. This is a thing that I can really feel thankful for, too, because it could have been so much worse.
Yesterday I was thinking about the idea of quantum realities as I was driving to work. I was thinking about how there is, if quantum mechanics is a real thing, a world where Doug never broke his back and he would have been there from the beginning for Rhondi and in that world they would be in each other’s lives as father and daughter and she wouldn’t have yet felt the pain she feels now.
These are things you think about when you know how much someone you love is in pain.
Certainly, it occurred to me that in that universe there was probably no way that Rhondi and I would have ever met. Our family wouldn’t be a thing. Our lives would not be intersected and maybe we’d both be miserable because the person we needed was not there.
I have a short drive to work, so I didn’t go into a whole lot of detail. I was just wishing that a least one version of Rhondi out there wouldn’t feel sad right now missing her dad. The dumb things we think about, I guess.
Dumb thoughts pop into my head all the time. Maybe ‘dumb’ is not the right word for this one, but I pass a lot of time thinking about things that I’ll never do or would never happen. This is probably not the smartest use of time, but it does make for fun little stories that entertain me.
*****
There are less than 50 records to go now. It’s hard to believe. This also means that I will be doing this daily blog less than 50 more times. I’m pretty okay with that.
I’m saying that now. I might change my mind. I might explode from all these words getting trapped inside my brain.
*****
I might explode
If I don’t write
I might not sleep
Every night
I might dream
Of things to do
I might not
Be any good for you
I might do dumb things
For attention
I might not have
The best intention
I might forget
To be present
I might not think
Right this instant
I might be scared
From time to time
I might not breathe
Like in my prime
I might explode
If I don’t write
I might not.
I might.
*****
I am dumb.
I sold Standing On A Beach for Mexico money back in 1988. This was a very cool compilation of Cure singles that I bought a couple years earlier and figured I could live without. I probably got a few bucks for it that would have bought me, maybe, two beers in Rocky Point.
Like I said, I am dumb.
It goes for stupid amounts of money on Discogs (not that I would sell it now if I still had it). I thought about buying another copy, but I’m not going to shell out $50 for a copy that is just “okay.’ Damn it.
Luckily, I have it on CD and there are multiple Spotify playlists of it. I still listen to it and it is a really great collection of Cure songs that I love. I had a copy of Japanese Whispers, too, and I sold it as well. I guess I was down on the Cure in those days. I think it’s because I thought they sold out.
Anyway, it’s a record I loved as a teenager and songs I still love today. I also needed to publicly say that I am dumb for selling it. It’s one of the handful of records that I have regretted doing that with over the years and all of them were so I could put together a few bucks for a Rocky Point trip that ended up sucking.
Karma was immediate. In some ways, that karma was brutal, but not in the way that selling a record to Zia was just dumb, but that’s another story all together.
This is the Cure music that I initially fell in love with beyond Boys Don’t Cry. Some of these tracks I already knew pretty well when I bought the album, but others were songs that I hadn’t owned before in any format. This was my real introduction to “A Forest,” for example, and I played it over and over. Simon Gallup’s bass line is so simple yet so great.
“Primary” is another one that I love a lot, and I heard it here first, I think. All of side A are among my all-time favorite Cure songs and some of them are just favorites in general. It makes me wonder, as I revisit it, why I got down on the band so much in the late 80s. I think it is more than just the idea of selling out. I think they matured but my musical tastes were still evolving towards something more raw, wilder, and abrasive. Maybe that’s it…or maybe it is just that the Cure really remind me of some painful stuff related to learning about romantic relationships. I wallowed in Cure music a lot when I was bummed about a girl.
This is probably why I choose to skip over “Charlotte Sometimes,” but “The Hanging Garden” is there to catch me. This is something that Lol Tollhurst can be proud of as the drums are pretty darn cool. Way better than his piece of shit book.
Side B has a lot of the stuff that I was enjoying dancing to at Tommy’s (teen dance club). The kids would all do this weird sort of bird & cat dance for “Let’s Go to Bed” with lots of shoulder hunching. It was fun. I can close my eyes and see that scene in my head. It’s another great bass line, too.
“The Walk” always kind of reminded me of “Blue Monday” by New Order and both songs came out around the same time. It’s a great song, though, and I like it still. I can sing all the words. “I kissed you in the water and made your dry lips sing” is a great line.
“The Love Cats” is kind of silly, but it’s a lot of fun, too. “The Caterpillar” is sneaky good, as well. The piano bits in both of these songs is great. So hopeful and so strange to my ears in those days.
“In Between Days” and “Close to Me” are both from The Head on the Door and that is probably the last Cure album I really liked all the way through. I might have to go back and listen to some of the ones that came after with these middle-aged ears. I might find more songs by Robert Smith that I love.
One day I will find a decent copy of this record for a decent price and we will be reunited. I can feel it.
*****
See you tomorrow.
Based on the title of the blog...thanks AI.
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