Sorry, JG, I have nicked your blog-titling convention again.
I’m having a rough night tonight. I’m not at all sure why, and that bothers me.
Ever since I got home from work, I’ve been feeling increasingly uneasy, uncomfortable, and depressed. I’ve got no real reason to feel that way. Today was not an exceptionally bad work day. The weather was beautiful and the temperature perfect. I wasn’t exceptionally overloaded with tasks, and in fact got something done which I wasn’t at all sure I could do. I came home for a nice lunch, and got away from the office on time at day’s end.
There are things on my mind, though. Perhaps I hadn’t realized how these things have been eating at me … none of them by itself is the end of the world, really, but their combined effect must be what’s overwhelming me.
First off, Tony seems weaker. I don’t know how to describe it beyond that … he’s not hurting or suffering but I can tell he’s not feeling as energetic as he was last week. The young cat is annoying him rather badly, but I’ve got no good way to separate them. It’s hard because I know the end is coming, and I am trying hard to be thankful for the time I have with him, and keep him as happy as a cat can be. He is so loving, all he wants to do is cling to me.
Another thing that’s weighing heavily on me is the Terri Schiavo situation. I know I really should find a way to disengage myself from this … LordHutton, you’re absolutely right, I have no reason to be so connected, but for some reason, I can’t stop thinking about it.
I am a completely apolitical creature. I am a member of no political party, I vote but only because it’s my duty to do so, and I would rather discuss the latest in audio processors than the latest debate on Capitol Hill. Political discourse bores me to tears. As with garbage men and sewer cleaners, I’m aware there’s a job politicians must do, but I don’t want to be involved. Here, though, I’m watching that political machine at its very rustiest, creaking along in its worst state of disrepair ever. Meanwhile, a man is being allowed to kill his wife for the crime of being an inconvenience, while the world watches. The courts consistently seem to say, ‘We don’t want to get involved.’ They ARE involved!
All of this has pushed me inexorably toward a conclusion that makes me ill. Fact is, I don’t belong here. This is not my country. This is not the America I was taught about during 12 years of primary school. It’s not the America our forefathers foresaw. If Thomas Jefferson were alive to see this country today, to see what we have become, what we are capable of, he would wish himself dead once again.
Land of the free, home of the brave, that’s the way our most patriotic song, “The Star Spangled Banner”, describes America. Free? What a joke. We are enslaved by a million laws. We legislate away a right or freedom almost every day. Brave? I don’t see many brave people taking any action today to right this or any of countless other injustices. We try to legislate morality, legislate open-mindedness, legislate away hate. It won’t work, and any idiot can see that except an idiot in office. “The Star Spangled Banner” probably had more meaningful lyrics when it was an English drinking song.
No, I don’t belong here. I don’t know where I do belong, but I know I don’t want any part of this. I can’t be party to this. I can’t stop it, but I don’t have to sit here and be part of it, paying the salaries of the very government officials who are sitting on their hands and watching this happen.
What else is bothering me? Well, to be honest, abject, complete, inescapable loneliness. Most days I do all right. I have a few friends, but all my closest ones live somewhere else. BC’s in Los Angeles. Ed and Rey are in Virginia. Kirk’s in Boston. David’s in Florida. My friends from Britain are all in Britain.
It’s times like this that things get kind of depressing. It’s almost 11 PM. Sammy and Phoenix are very quiet, sitting on their perches with one leg raised, heads under their wings, sleeping peacefully. Tony’s curled up in the corner of the sofa, looking comfortable. BB’s snoozing in my chair. The TV is the only sound aside from my fingers on the keyboard. This apartment is small, but it seems cavernous when I’m the only creature that’s stirring. It’s like this most nights. Sometimes I think I’d trade my right arm for someone to talk to who understands me. Sometimes I think I’d trade my dignity for someone to make my bed, my apartment, and my life feel less empty. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve been there and done that.
I watched my new favorite movie, “Love Actually”, again. I am always struck hard by what happens between Jamie and Aurelia. They can’t even speak to each other, no words pass between them, but somehow they just *click*. It’s as though they’re two pieces of some gigantic puzzle, always meant to fit together but waiting for life to bring them to the same place. The first words they ever say to each other are a marriage proposal and acceptance.
It’s such a perfect, fairy-tale notion. I wish it really happened. Maybe it does, so perhaps I should just wish it happens to me. Someday.
I wish I were tired. I am going to go curl up with my cats, and think. If all else fails, I’ll put on my PGA golf tape. It’s the best sedative known to man.
Thanks for reading my shameless venting. Good night.
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The Black Dog’s crossed the Pond, then. I feel like that sometimes – rather as if I’ve slipped into the wrong time. It’s very unsettling.
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Sorry to hear that you aren’t feeling great. 🙁
Why don’t you write a card to the parents of Terri Shiavo? Just a “Thinking of You” card. I imagine they could do with all the support they can right now. Probably one of millions they receive, but I guess every little helps in their time of need.
As for not feeling right where you belong, we all know that you are actually an Englishman who was born in the wrong place 😉
For the last two years of living in Kidderminster, we felt we didn’t belong there. It took us a while to sort out a masterplan, but having an aim was good to keep us both surviving. You never know, after your trip to the UK, you might decide that you want to live here! 🙂
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I nominate you as the American Henners. Tell it like it is!
Without addressing any of the specific issues you raise: are you getting enough exercise? I’ve found that the blackest and most intractable of situations can be alleviated by a walk in the open air.
Hang in there!
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I agre with sweavo. Get some excerise and go caching! 🙂
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Love to Tony
The state of America doesnt go away even if you don’t live there. It is in our papers and on our TV every day.
I suspect that you really want to live in France or Germany.
Keep your chin up, old chap.
A
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Thanks for the ideas. Exercise is a great idea, and no, I don’t get nearly enough. The problem has been that during the winter, by the time I leave work it’s dark. The days are getting longer now, so I will have more time in the early evening to get outdoors.
France? Germany? I think I would hate having to learn a new language. I have several friends who speak English as a second language, and I see them continuing to struggle every day, even after years in America. I like communicating clearly, I like making good use of a diverse vocabulary, and I would never have that ability in another language, never have the facile way of a native speaker.
That leaves me with the english-speaking countries. Britain, Canada, Australia, Texas.
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I was sad to see that Terri lost her fight for life this morning.
All the things you said about America are sadly true. I had my eyes opened by the time I spent in the USA and it left me sad.
You will find the way my friend.
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You could always try night caching Scott. It is a “Favourite thing” after all.
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Whaaat? They speak English in Texas?! Are you sure? Anyway, just keep visiting the chatroom, Scotty, you know you could never be miserable there!
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scott, (i never capitalize things to save time and energy typing),
wow, i read through you letter and had lots of mixed feelings. i too am an american born person, however, lived in norway 11 years, tokyo, bonaire, venezuela, and the cayman islands. i have seen the best of best in human rights and the worse. studying egyptian dance, i was spat on in cairo, assumed a whore, and could not travel alone at night. in the caymans, dragged off by an irate female police woman who beat me all night in prison, where i barely escaped alive. boy, was i reciting ‘my rights’ left and right, didn’t do much good.
my father just passed last year. he left directives explicitily telling us he did not want a feeding tube or left in a vegetable state. we complied with his wishes, brought him home and had a wonderful transistion, which we respected. to me, the sadness whole thing, is it was so public, and so sad that the families couldn’t be together at the last moments when terri was leaving the physical world. and now, they fight over how and what will be done to her body. that is sad.
i personally was moved to fill out my directives immediately as a result of this situation. i would not want to live artifically, not interacting with the world and my children, so my wishes would be to unplug and pull out the darn feeding tube. some chap said, “are we violating God if we pull out the tube? Are we breaking some rules or something? and the answer was, “perhaps you violated God’s wishes when you put it in”.
We are living now in a cyborg world, a world who can keep you alive if you want, endlessly. but isn’t there some question as to quality of life, and choices. i would never want some upper court judge reinserting my tube if i left instructions to let me go in peace. perhaps that is because i am not afraid of passing over to the other side.
this is a paradox of a country. i came back her only because my parents were dying. i lost my dad in may, my brother died surprisinly in dec. of liver cancer, and yes, we unplugged him and took him home to die in our arms and the room he grew up in when he was declared terminal and had 24 hours to live, and my mom had a major stoke as a result of the stress. I lived in norway 11 years, and just returned here. two weeks before september 11th. i am proud and ashamed at the same time.
i feel european since my girls were born there, and i learned the language, and got good at mericanos bashing. but at the end of the day, i work with koreans, japanese, malaysians, tunisians, germans, swedes, a guy from peru, mexicans, and a few i don’t even know where they are from. i have been all over the world, and it is the only place that i can honestly say at least they are all there, not equal by any means, but certainly able to apply for a job.
in japan,there were 99% japanese, and i was politely tolerated. in norway, learn norwegian or be an outcast. very oppressive society in many ways. in bonaire, mostly black, i stood out like a white beacon, barely tolerated, and resented for my roots. in the caymans, beaten.
in any event, scott, you can now say, you know someone in san jose too, feeling marginally misplaced at times, but stuggling with the humanness of us all. the great thing scott, you care. that makes you feel human, and that is good.
safa
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Safa,what an excellent and interesting comment. Do you have a blog?
Kim
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kim, i have an email address, working on my own website http://www.safaunleashed.com, haven’t got it yet. actually to be honest, i am not sure the process to get blogged. So, perhaps soon.
safa..see in the chat room too..
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safa40@hotmail.com
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As you know I am English and live in California. I spend my days wishing I was back in England and have every intention of doing so at the first chance. It would be fairly easy to up sticks and go back but there are many reasons why we do not. The main one being I suppose the standard of living we have here. I don’t know if I will recognise the chance to return to England when I get it and it may be too late already.
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