Friday, March 20, 2015
You Could Lose Your Mind
I love this picture, love the big momma belly, the bold confidence of the pose. Maybe I have started to grow up here at retirement age. Things that never fascinated me before fascinate me now. Perhaps it has simply been a string of remarkable things that has happened to me in this past tumultuous year.
Nah. I haven't grown up. I've spent the past week chasing the same shiny coin I chased in college. I am worn out with it. Tired. Weak. Dissolute.
It is wondrous.
I went to a birthday party for one of the circle of friends at the factory after work yesterday. I sat at the bar and drank without eating. I had eaten only a bowl of soup at a Vietnamese restaurant that day, but I thought to eat at the next bar where I was supposed to meet a buddy. As I was ready to go, though, an old friend walked in. My college roommate. He is married for a few years now to a new wife. His life is very different from mine. It needn't be. It just is. I could be him or he me. It is just a matter of choice and chance, I think. I asked him when was the last time he dropped acid. Oh, he said, years. You used to keep some in the freezer, I said. Do you still have it? He looked around the bar a bit then said no. What happened to it, I asked. I must have taken it, he said. Why, he asked, are you wanting to drop some? I don't know, I said. What's the worst that could happen at this age? You could lose your mind, he laughed. I suspected that he meant that I already had.
I stayed too long at the bar and had to bag the second one where I was supposed to meet a friend who was having drinks with another of his friends. I hated not showing up, but I had to get downtown to meet a twenty year old film student who I was told liked my photography. She wanted to meet me the fellow who used to work for me said. Sorry old guys, I thought, I've got a date with destiny.
Downtown was deserted at seven o'clock on a Thursday night. The bar was renowned for its cocktails and was usually packed, I'd heard. I had never been. I walked in. It was empty but for the boy and the girl I was there to see and photography crew who were taking pictures of cocktails. Cocktails and no food. I was charming, I think. I have no idea, really. I didn't feel so very cool, really, but later, after I got home with a bucket of Popeye's fried chicken, the boy texted to tell me she was ready for "round two."
I have more people wanting to shoot with me than I could possibly shoot. Women are making eyes at me. I am drained.
This week there is an art festival in my own home town. Traveling from place to place will be impossible. Perhaps I will take my camera into the crowd. Or, perhaps, I'll work on the overwhelming backlog of pictures and sleep. My nerves are jangled with the lack of it. I am afraid that nothing I have said has really happened, that I have simply been hallucinating.
"What's the worst that could happen at my age?"
"You could lose your mind."
Posted by cafe selavy at 8:18 AM