How did I get here?

TALKING-HEADS550b1If you are of a certain age and mindset, then you likely have a (possibly vague) recollection of the first time you heard the Talking Heads. I’ll admit they were not so high up on my radar until Remain in Light came out, and one song in particular had resonance then, and still does in my life: Once in a Lifetime.

It’s pondering of the existential aspects of life—the meanings and definition of success and satisfaction—were, in some ways, not terribly relevant to a 17 year old with more focus on term papers and parties than attaining a meaningful life. I had yet to be buffeted significantly by the arbitrariness of bureaucracy, the tedium of work you don’t love, the demands of a family, and yes—the joy, too, of love, responsibility, satisfaction in a job well done.

Yet the song remains a lodestar for me, and listening to it often supplies an opportunity to reflect—or genuflect—on the successes I have had, the hard knocks I have endured, the love and support I receive. In performing this relatively unscientific inventory of my time on earth, as a citizen of Brookline, Massachusetts, USA, North America, Earth—as Stephen Dedalus might say—I find the glass half full.

That’s how I got here—and I am thankful.

Curiouser and Curiouser

I was watching Parts Unknown the other night–Bourdain being one of my favourite–if rather salty–commentators on popular culture, and, yeah, food. Imagine my surprise to find him having a very civilized meal, with what appeared to be one very restrained glass of white wine–like ladies who lunch–with Iggy Pop, whom I last saw crowd-surfing half-naked on Randall’s Island about 10 years ago at Little Steven’s Garage Rock festival. And, they were in Miami. Completely clothed. No foul language. Not even a euphemism. I got a little teared up when Iggy actually said he was happy to be “loved” and to love someone back.

As AB was, I was also a huge Pop fan back in the day. I often wondered how one weathers a lifestyle so completely dedicated to living out loud with no regrets, and with a level of curiosity in life and all its dimensions that it’s practically forensic.

The good news is that Iggy is just fine. And lucid. And still curious. In fact, as he and Anthony take a walk on a grey day on a deserted, cold Miami Beach, and remonstrate about life, success, the reward for a life well spent (or youth mis-spent), Iggy is still lyrical, and his thought resonated with me.

Curiosity. . . seems to pay some unexpected dividends. . . .

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