Blade Runner.  Great movie.  Classic.  We saw it again recently.  A reminder of the perceptions of life that we hold onto as we cruise through it.  Maybe not in a futuristic vehicle, but maybe it is – if you time slice automobiles from the time you were born, to now – hey, by the time you are my age, they do look futuristic.  They still don’t fly through the air, except in bad circumstances. 

That’s another story. Chaotic.  Strange.  Wake me up when this movie is over. 

But sometimes things happen and you can’t wake up from it, and you can’t get away from it.  It just is how it is.  I have experienced that.  More than once.  Yeah, life sucks sometimes.

Disease, divorce, death – the three “D’s” that you get told by counselors that say these are major deals in your life.  Of course your own death isn’t likely to affect you in a big way, just other people who are left behind.  And that is yet another story.  Been there, done that.  No amount of experience prepares you.

Things get put on your radar that weren’t there just a minute or two before.  Stuff like that.  That is when we don’t want change to happen.  It is a “please, just let me BE” kind of appeal.  I’m not ready for the great up yonder yet.  We don’t get to decide that, Silly.  Haven’t you figured that out yet?  So, nobody wants to face that, but yet we face it every day.  We just send it under the gray matter.  Fear of “it” in any representation.

Clowns.  Monsters.  Deep space.  Any abyss – beings and places you cannot know simply because you cannot see or touch what is within.  Let’s take clowns.  Underneath all of that make up, wigs, baggy clothes, big shoes and those big red noses is something you cannot understand.  Oh, and yeah.  There’s the teeth part.  Big teeth.  “The clowns are waiting, I cannot sleep.”

Thanks Stephen King.  Master of bringing you your worst nightmares in print.  You are compelled to NOT put the book down until you get through to the end.

I think that if a dark future is defined for you, and you are told this, it makes you realize that you are not in control here.  You are definitely NOT in control.  Sometimes you go down the river in Egypt – de Nile.  Or your mind chops it up into itty-bitty pieces.  At some point, the removal of the perceived control makes you angry.  It makes you lose it.  Yeah.  Lose control.  Oh yeah… never actually had it, did you?  So, get pissed off, get over it and call me in the morning.

Living in the past lately, for some strange reason I call it studying the past.  Suddenly, the 1960’s are fascinating.  Maybe clinging is a better word.  Maybe not.

Day to day, for comfort, we delude ourselves into thinking that everything is fine.  It’s a self-protection, this calm of the moment.  A womb.  We sit in it and watch the world go by.  Then the tap on the shoulder. 

Imagine riding along on I-10 one minute, and crunched between vehicles the next.  Split second.  Bastante.

Don’t forget.  Joy happens, too.  Learning that you will be a parent, then waiting the appointed time before that actually happens. 

The split second you see the new little person, made of 50% you, emerging into the world – now that’s joy!  Let’s not think of other possibilities.  Be in the moment.  It’s important.  Let’s just think that things will be fine and the miracle of life will be right in front of our very eyes. 

Experience teaches us lessons of dubiousness and as we have more of those experiences, we get more dubious.  It’s as simple as that.

I have been accused of being “negative”.  Maybe when I am speaking with people who are close to me, it is the fact that I feel that I can speak freely.  Well, maybe I can’t as much as I thought.  Live and learn.  There was innocence before the fall.

My life experience unfolds every day.   Everyone on this planet experiences this as long as they are still breathing. 

Revisiting what I did once, thinking back about it, I felt like I was wandering in the forest, to be honest.  I look at these old photos and wonder what happened to these girls who were friends back in 7th grade.

Mostly, I was afraid of my mother.  I was always trying to escape her grip of control.  She didn’t want me to wear shoes with no socks.  She did not want me to wear make-up.  She did not want me to shave my legs or arm pits.  For God’s sake, I was looking like a baby gorilla!  What a dork – wearing socks and clunky shoes (oh  yeah, she didn’t want me to wear cool shoes – only those that were “supportive”).  No make up, no eye liner, no lipstick – Frosted Malt or Sugar and Ice – the two popular ones at the time so you could look like “Twiggy”.  Right.  See me in that dress.  I absolutely did NOT look like Twiggy.  I had curly hair, when styles were straight.  My mom kept cutting my hair, when I wanted it long.  What did we agree on?  Not much.

We finally had it out when I was in seventh grade.  Yeah.  She took a slap at me and I caught her hand in mid-air.  I said, “Don’t do that to me ever again.”  Line in the sand.  That was the day she realized that I was bigger and stronger than she was.  And she didn’t physically do that again.  She used her mind instead… oh yeah, and her voice.  Boy could she scream and yell.

She was kind of a “Dr. Jekyl – Mrs. Hyde”.  But eventually, we knew the relationship boundaries and we got as okay as we could — and she did rise to help and support at grim times, when she was most needed.  She could behave like a normal human being if she put her mind to it.  A real normal one.  That was what perplexed everyone about her.  But underneath, she was a normal person, trying to stay that way.  It was probably clowns that drove her into her spells.

So I digress.

Childhood.  Adolescence.  Adulthood.  I guess all I wanted was some credibility.  Well, here I am. 

I’ve been so trying not to repeat history, that it hurts.  Maybe I have gone a bit too far, but then, you are never sure.

We have those moments in our lives that we will look back on, embarrassed, but knowing that it was the best that we could do at the time with what capabilities we had and being what people we were, we can take comfort.  We were children.   It’s okay.   We can’t go back and change this.  Only in the movies, but then it gets complicated when this happens, as we have seen.

But we had fun and we did crazy stuff.  We snuck out and rode around, and met boys at the movies, and made out in the dark.  We probably did a lot of things that millions of other kids did around the world.  That’s why I love that movie, “The Boat that Rocked”  AKA “Pirate Radio”.   It captured how we were – on the brink of something revolutionary.  It was great!  The British Rock invasion… The Soul Train… Girl groups – yeah, Lezley Gore – It’s My Party and I will Cry if I Want!  Love it!

One thing, though – we can’t go back.  Would we want to go back?  No, not really.  Some of those days weren’t so much fun.  But what I think is that we should appreciate every day.  I know it’s hard for people facing tough times.

We can’t magic away the tough times.  But if you are just needing to change your attitude, then you really should think about it.

I am.  Every day.  Every day.