Los Angeles, California
When Eddie Van Halen passed away last week, I checked my iTunes to see if I had any Van Halen music in my library. I liked Van Halen, but as it turns out, not enough to have downloaded anything by the group. Had I, it probably would have been the song Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love which evokes a lot of memories from that era. I do however have some of Van Halen's licks in my iTunes library, as he did the guitar solo on Michael Jackson's Beat It, which is part of a collection of music that I use when working out.
Tom understood that when a famous actor died, our next trip to Blockbuster Video would be to rent one of their movies. It was my own sort of Turner Classic Moviesque tribute to watch a favorite film by one of the movie greats just after they had left us. That was back in the day of losing the likes of James Stewart and Katharine Hepburn, although we also did this after the demise of lesser constellations. So, did I want to listen to Van Halen yesterday or today? Not so much. I already have a constant ear worm going with Bon Jovi's Livin' on a Prayer.
It's my own fault. It's another song in one of my workout playlists, songs chosen for their meter which makes them particularly good for warm-up/cool-down, aerobics or weight/abs/ legwork. Amidst a lot of songs, this lyric got into my head:
We've gotta hold on ready or not
You live for the fight when it's all that you've got.
Whoa, livin' on a prayer
Take my hand, we'll make it I swear
Whoa, livin' on a prayer
So, I realize it's not great poetry. And if you're not a woman of a certain age, you might not even know that Jon Bon Jovi was about the most gorgeous guy to ever grace rock and roll. But, that's just an aside. My ear worm is we're halfway there. And of course, aren't we all living on prayers? And hopes and wishes, and so much more than most of us were a year ago?
I see all the pumpkins and Halloween paraphernalia at my local market and at the pumpkin patch I drive past, and one-half of my brain registers that this is normal for this time of year. The other half is where the rumination and anger and ear worms reside. There is a plexiglass partition between them.
I drove to my local market last week on a sparkly, autumn day. If you live anywhere in the US besides California and Hawaii, you would probably laugh at reading this about LA. We do have some trees that change color, but for me, autumn is marked by a changing of sunlight. And a certain crispness in how things look and feel. It's subtle. I'll give you that. But as we barrel through MLB playoffs towards the World Series, and the election shortly after, I am daily aware that it is October, and changes are coming. And I am living on a prayer that they will be good changes, and that maybe, pandemic-wise, we might even be better than halfway there.
Lately, I have been watching the series Felicity, which is a college drama from the late '90s and early '00s, which is set in New York. It is well-written, and is a great escape for me, both because of where it takes place as well as when I first watched it. I had traveled to New York in the summers of 1998, 2001, and 2004, and the changes both in the city and in travel between 2001 and 2004 were clear. Life simply altered after 9/11. There was no going back. I have read that what we are going through now will be the defining time of our lives, much as the depression was for my grandparents and the war was for my parents.
My parents eloped on their third date, and my father shipped out with the Navy a month later. They didn't see each other for twenty-eight months, and since they hadn't known each other for long, my mother said she would forget what my dad looked like, and would often have to frantically pull his photo out of her handbag to remind her. As she told it, this would happen while she was riding the streetcar on her way to work. Once reunited, did they take that experience of fear and separation with them throughout their marriage? What will we take with us from this time when we can finally move forward? How hard will it be to adjust to life after Covid? We hope it will be a snap back to what we knew, but will it? And what about life after Trump, whether that comes from this election or later? When he is gone, what will happen to that base with their hatred, vitriol, and the absurdity of comspiracies and "alternative" facts? Will there be a political new normal that is calmer, bipartisan, and, most importantly, honestly factual?
So for now, living on a prayer, living on a multitude of prayers, is not a bad way to live. And I could certainly have worse earworms, like those awful advertising jingles. No, I think I'll keep my worm: Halfway there... We will make it, I swear. Thank you for reading my blog.
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