Tuesday, November 29, 2005
No Day But Today
I’ve been in love with Broadway musicals since I was about 7 years old. I’m not talking love, I’m talking addiction. One could make the generic comment of “Well, he’s gay. He’s got the ‘show tune’ gene.” But that’s definitely not it. I don’t look or act in the way that you picture that stereotype. Rather, I’m in love with Broadway musicals because I’m in love with theater and music. For years I’ve dreamed of being a chorus boy on Broadway. I thought it was my destiny. However, when I decided to take theater seriously, I realized that my true calling was not through the expression of song. It was through the expression of words. But I digress…
Whatever kind of actor I turned out to be, I will always have that spot in my heart for the “Great American Broadway Musical”. My first obsession was Miss Saigon. My second obsession was Phantom of the Opera, but that’s cuz it was the only other one (besides Cats which other than being my first Broadway musical, offers me nothing) I had seen. Then came the spring of 1996.
I was just home from my first year of college and my “boy” (he was straight, sometimes…go figure) at the time took me to see Rent for my birthday. I remember being a closed minded, Phantom of the Opera kind of guy, sitting in the theater (which they kept freezing – to remind you that you were watching all of this from an East Village loft with no heat – brilliant), and thinking “Oh my God. What is this crazy, ugly, loud, and intimidating show? There’s no set!” Since I had seen it within the first couple months of its premiere, I figured, “Adios Rent! Nice to know ya, don’t bother me again.”
But then on my birthday, my gay and beautiful uncles bought me the soundtrack to the aforementioned. I remembered a few songs from the show that were catchy and I thought "I’ll give this a shot when I have some time".
Later in the day (I guess I found the time...ha) I put the CD from Act 1 of Rent in my player and my life was never the same.
I remember sitting on my bed and following the story, line by line, thinking “When no one else is around, I identify with this shit”. By the time I got to Act 2, I was sobbing. By myself in my room, thinking…why did this show get under my skin in this way? Why when I know none of the words, is it speaking to me?
After that day, I ended up taking friends, family, and boyfriends, to see “Rent”. Probably just so I could see it again. Full on addiction.
At the time they had a lottery where if you showed up 2 hours before the show, you could put your name into a hat and potentially win 2 front row tickets. I won twice (well, me once and my friend once). And I remember selling my previously bought tickets (cuz you don’t risk not seeing it – you buy in advance and THEN play the lottery) at face value or less. Cuz that is the point of Rent. Everyone should have a chance to see it – without paying more than is expected.
Some of the people I’ve taken to see Rent have been forever changed by it. Some of the people don’t get it. But I’ve learned to accept both reactions. At least they’ve had a chance to experience it. If anything, that’s most important.
Over the years I’ve also learned why the show affected me so deeply, back when I was a scared, closeted, suburban, inexperienced, gay man.
Rent is first and foremost about friendship and love. Unequivocally. Second, it is about the real and terrifying issues that artists face in NYC. Sure, the time period of the show focuses only on 1989 and 1990, but as a gay man in 2005, it encompasses every fear that I have; from AIDS, to drug abuse, to loving someone that won’t love you back, right down to wondering how I’m actually going to pay my “rent” and survive in this city. It’s absolutely everything.
When I saw the MOVIE on Friday, I had a group of 15 diverse and wonderful people with me. Of course I had my mom on one side and Kelly on the other. It was heart-warming, and also, an adventure. I had previously promised myself that I wouldn’t sing along (as I know the entire show backwards and forwards), nor focus on anyone else’s experience, other than my own. I wanted Rent to be for all of us, but most importantly I wanted it to be for me.
When the movie started, I began to cry. Part of me was embarrassed that it took so little and part of me didn’t care. “Rent”, the opening number came, and tears bunched in the corners of my eyes; the sheer beauty of seeing the cast of the original production in right in front of my face, their intricate expressions so real and close, everything that I only remember in a memory.
And Chris Columbus…wait.
Chris Columbus, the director who took on this massive challenge…
From the opening number until the closing credits, I was absolutely blown away by his intuitive and sensitive nature when dealing with this material. Jonathan Larson, the creator of Rent, who died spontaneously (from a brain aneurism) on opening night, would have been incredibly satisfied, and more importantly, PROUD of how true Columbus stayed to his story, his masterpiece.
Sure…as a die hard Rent fan; you feel the way I do. Why didn’t they just make the ENTIRE thing a musical, the way it is on Broadway? Why go 98% of the way?
Why cast Rosario Dawson (who did a completely acceptable job) as Mimi, when the part could have been cast with one of the OTHER legendary Mimi’s? Karmine Alers, anyone?
Why did we have to actually see Roger drive to Santa Fe? That was just a waste of a missing song: “Happy New Year”, “Contact”, etc.
And really…would it have been SUCH a mistake to have the voicemails sung? It was part of the charm to begin with.
But that being said.
In my entire life, I have never had a movie experience quite like this one. But never before had I been so love in love with a piece of art.
I was relieved and comforted by the absolute authentic nature of the film, that I allowed myself to fall in love the way I did the very first time. Angel, Mark, Tom Collins, Maureen…I always feared I would never again see you in your original form. And eventually, you will be immortalized in my DVD collection. (and of course I’ll upgrade every time the producers come out with a new collector’s edition. I’ve already bought the movie soundtrack, even thought it’s virtually identical to the Broadway cast recording. Heh. Overboard.) Even after a decade, you actors are EXACTLY the same people that I associate with the title roles. You are the story of Rent.
Rent not only changed the way I see Broadway musicals, it changed (and continues to change) my life. I live in NYC (duh). And I’ve also (basically) lived 3 blocks from Alphabet City. I’m gay. I’m afraid of giving over to sex and love. And most of all, I’m scared that I’m never going to finish my movie.
But the one thing that listening to and watching Rent gives me, is hope that I truly can accomplish that which seems impossible. Yet also, that love is real. The pursuit of art is not only acceptable, it’s necessary. Love your friends and family now, before they’re taken away. Additionally, love…most importantly, yourself, without any of the regret.
And if all else fails and you still are one of those people that just don’t identify with the story…realize this…
Just by living, you’re doing more than is ever expected of you. That’s all Mr. Larson wanted to say.
I’ve been in love with Broadway musicals since I was about 7 years old. I’m not talking love, I’m talking addiction. One could make the generic comment of “Well, he’s gay. He’s got the ‘show tune’ gene.” But that’s definitely not it. I don’t look or act in the way that you picture that stereotype. Rather, I’m in love with Broadway musicals because I’m in love with theater and music. For years I’ve dreamed of being a chorus boy on Broadway. I thought it was my destiny. However, when I decided to take theater seriously, I realized that my true calling was not through the expression of song. It was through the expression of words. But I digress…
Whatever kind of actor I turned out to be, I will always have that spot in my heart for the “Great American Broadway Musical”. My first obsession was Miss Saigon. My second obsession was Phantom of the Opera, but that’s cuz it was the only other one (besides Cats which other than being my first Broadway musical, offers me nothing) I had seen. Then came the spring of 1996.
I was just home from my first year of college and my “boy” (he was straight, sometimes…go figure) at the time took me to see Rent for my birthday. I remember being a closed minded, Phantom of the Opera kind of guy, sitting in the theater (which they kept freezing – to remind you that you were watching all of this from an East Village loft with no heat – brilliant), and thinking “Oh my God. What is this crazy, ugly, loud, and intimidating show? There’s no set!” Since I had seen it within the first couple months of its premiere, I figured, “Adios Rent! Nice to know ya, don’t bother me again.”
But then on my birthday, my gay and beautiful uncles bought me the soundtrack to the aforementioned. I remembered a few songs from the show that were catchy and I thought "I’ll give this a shot when I have some time".
Later in the day (I guess I found the time...ha) I put the CD from Act 1 of Rent in my player and my life was never the same.
I remember sitting on my bed and following the story, line by line, thinking “When no one else is around, I identify with this shit”. By the time I got to Act 2, I was sobbing. By myself in my room, thinking…why did this show get under my skin in this way? Why when I know none of the words, is it speaking to me?
After that day, I ended up taking friends, family, and boyfriends, to see “Rent”. Probably just so I could see it again. Full on addiction.
At the time they had a lottery where if you showed up 2 hours before the show, you could put your name into a hat and potentially win 2 front row tickets. I won twice (well, me once and my friend once). And I remember selling my previously bought tickets (cuz you don’t risk not seeing it – you buy in advance and THEN play the lottery) at face value or less. Cuz that is the point of Rent. Everyone should have a chance to see it – without paying more than is expected.
Some of the people I’ve taken to see Rent have been forever changed by it. Some of the people don’t get it. But I’ve learned to accept both reactions. At least they’ve had a chance to experience it. If anything, that’s most important.
Over the years I’ve also learned why the show affected me so deeply, back when I was a scared, closeted, suburban, inexperienced, gay man.
Rent is first and foremost about friendship and love. Unequivocally. Second, it is about the real and terrifying issues that artists face in NYC. Sure, the time period of the show focuses only on 1989 and 1990, but as a gay man in 2005, it encompasses every fear that I have; from AIDS, to drug abuse, to loving someone that won’t love you back, right down to wondering how I’m actually going to pay my “rent” and survive in this city. It’s absolutely everything.
When I saw the MOVIE on Friday, I had a group of 15 diverse and wonderful people with me. Of course I had my mom on one side and Kelly on the other. It was heart-warming, and also, an adventure. I had previously promised myself that I wouldn’t sing along (as I know the entire show backwards and forwards), nor focus on anyone else’s experience, other than my own. I wanted Rent to be for all of us, but most importantly I wanted it to be for me.
When the movie started, I began to cry. Part of me was embarrassed that it took so little and part of me didn’t care. “Rent”, the opening number came, and tears bunched in the corners of my eyes; the sheer beauty of seeing the cast of the original production in right in front of my face, their intricate expressions so real and close, everything that I only remember in a memory.
And Chris Columbus…wait.
Chris Columbus, the director who took on this massive challenge…
From the opening number until the closing credits, I was absolutely blown away by his intuitive and sensitive nature when dealing with this material. Jonathan Larson, the creator of Rent, who died spontaneously (from a brain aneurism) on opening night, would have been incredibly satisfied, and more importantly, PROUD of how true Columbus stayed to his story, his masterpiece.
Sure…as a die hard Rent fan; you feel the way I do. Why didn’t they just make the ENTIRE thing a musical, the way it is on Broadway? Why go 98% of the way?
Why cast Rosario Dawson (who did a completely acceptable job) as Mimi, when the part could have been cast with one of the OTHER legendary Mimi’s? Karmine Alers, anyone?
Why did we have to actually see Roger drive to Santa Fe? That was just a waste of a missing song: “Happy New Year”, “Contact”, etc.
And really…would it have been SUCH a mistake to have the voicemails sung? It was part of the charm to begin with.
But that being said.
In my entire life, I have never had a movie experience quite like this one. But never before had I been so love in love with a piece of art.
I was relieved and comforted by the absolute authentic nature of the film, that I allowed myself to fall in love the way I did the very first time. Angel, Mark, Tom Collins, Maureen…I always feared I would never again see you in your original form. And eventually, you will be immortalized in my DVD collection. (and of course I’ll upgrade every time the producers come out with a new collector’s edition. I’ve already bought the movie soundtrack, even thought it’s virtually identical to the Broadway cast recording. Heh. Overboard.) Even after a decade, you actors are EXACTLY the same people that I associate with the title roles. You are the story of Rent.
Rent not only changed the way I see Broadway musicals, it changed (and continues to change) my life. I live in NYC (duh). And I’ve also (basically) lived 3 blocks from Alphabet City. I’m gay. I’m afraid of giving over to sex and love. And most of all, I’m scared that I’m never going to finish my movie.
But the one thing that listening to and watching Rent gives me, is hope that I truly can accomplish that which seems impossible. Yet also, that love is real. The pursuit of art is not only acceptable, it’s necessary. Love your friends and family now, before they’re taken away. Additionally, love…most importantly, yourself, without any of the regret.
And if all else fails and you still are one of those people that just don’t identify with the story…realize this…
Just by living, you’re doing more than is ever expected of you. That’s all Mr. Larson wanted to say.
Monday, November 21, 2005
Joe Revealed
Well all...the day has come! I've decided to give you a glimpse as to what Joe CuttheShit looks like! Here is my headshot. It's the only decent picture I have on this computer. Hope you think I'm adorable! heh heh
I'll be pulling this picture after Thanksgiving. So make all your copies now! Remember, if you decide to masterbate to my pic, make me a bottom in your fantasy. That's what I prefer.
Have a great Monday!
Well all...the day has come! I've decided to give you a glimpse as to what Joe CuttheShit looks like! Here is my headshot. It's the only decent picture I have on this computer. Hope you think I'm adorable! heh heh
I'll be pulling this picture after Thanksgiving. So make all your copies now! Remember, if you decide to masterbate to my pic, make me a bottom in your fantasy. That's what I prefer.
Have a great Monday!
Friday, November 18, 2005
Blogger Problemas
For some reason I'm having a problem updating my links and shit today. Instead of writing a post, I'm going to have to fix it somehow.
But come back on Monday. Cuz I'll be revealing something shocking!
Have a great weekend all!
For some reason I'm having a problem updating my links and shit today. Instead of writing a post, I'm going to have to fix it somehow.
But come back on Monday. Cuz I'll be revealing something shocking!
Have a great weekend all!
Thursday, November 17, 2005
You’ve Waited So Long For This?
Disclaimer: First things first…I know I haven’t posted in a while and I apologize for that. Everything’s been kind of up and down over the last couple of weeks and I haven’t found the energy or desire to visit “Cut the Shit” world. But now I’m starting to get my old self back and I feel pretty good about everything. That being said…on with today’s postal!
So I made a huge mistake this morning. I wanted to wear my hoodie cuz its cold outside and it’s kind of like my security blanket. I feel so adorable and warm in it and it just makes me feel a little bit more like home – if that makes any sense. Anyway, when I went to put it on, it kind of reeked of cigarette smoke. Rather than pull out the trusty Febreeze, I decided to squirt some cologne on it. Unfortunately, the only bottle of cologne that I have left is this very large bottle of Perry Ellis. I only squirted a few drops on the sweater, but now I’m sitting here and gagging over it. Perry Ellis smells like shit and it reminds me of someone I hate. So now, all day long, I get to sit here and smell a mixture of stale smoke combined with Perry Ellis of doom. Sick and also barf.
Thanksgiving is upon us! Due to the (never-ending) Iraq war, this will be the first Thanksgiving in three years that my brother has been able to be a part of the family celebrations. And his fiancée, Nina, will be there as well! It’s going to be so great having my brother there to take care of my dad when he gets a little too drunk or talk to my granny when she gets going on one of her stories about what it was like when she was a kid. Although I’m sure she’s a big liar. I don’t believe she was ever a kid. She was born 85 years old, obviously.
I have a little cut on my upper lip today and it stings like a bitch. Good story.
If you haven’t been watching Lost, I simply feel sorry for you.
Guess what I just learned? The word “fiancé” means “a man that is betrothed”. The word “fiancée” means the woman to whom the man is betrothed”. Weird, right? Weird and sexy.
Yesterday I’m having lunch with Ari and as is typical for us, we spotted a “famous” person. Sure, Ari spots people like Dustin Hoffman or Glenn Close…I spot people like Kim Stolz from America’s Next Top Model. Here is what happened: I look up and see Kim walking towards us on her cell phone. Without any thought as to how much of an ass I was going to be, I scream out “You! You’re amazing on ‘America’s Next Top Model’”. Kim made eye contact with me and brushes me off with a “Thanks”. It was a fun moment, but I found myself feeling like a total moron. Cuz I don’t even like Kim on the show. Sure, she’s a lesbian and it’s nice to see a semi-normal person representing the gay community on television, BUT she’s also kind of a loser and is one of my least favorite models on the show. Why couldn’t I have yelled out “You! You’re amazing at being a moron and one of my least favorite models on the show!” At least then I would have been honest. And maybe saved some of my pride.
Not only do I stink like a whorehouse today, I also decided to wear a pair of jeans that I have no business wearing. Denim spandex anyone? I mean, sure, my hair looks fantastic and my skin looks gorge, but my legs are two tree trunks that are stomping around the forest of my life. (Oooooh…very poetic.) I even did full on lunges this morning when I put on the jeans, in an effort to stretch them out a bit. Truth be told, I don’t look bad in them per se, but I’m used to wearing jeans that are a little less form fitting. My nuts are fully squished against the inside of my leg. Ay yi yi. Guess who WON’T be having pizza for lunch?
No I did not download Ryan Cabrera’s “Shine on”. No I didn’t.
Cept I did. For some reason I just love that little bitch. Although his hair is reaching to the moon and back. And I’ve never been one for space age hairdos.
The Rent movie opens next week! I can’t possibly explain how excited I am. I have seen the show 8 times on Broadway – twice in the front row. I know all the words and it’s my dream to one day play the role of Mark. To think that this Pulitzer Prize winning show opened 10 years ago. I saw it for the first time within the first 3 months of its opening and even then I was dying for them to make a movie musical out of it. I will be attending a screening of it with all of my nearest and dearest on the Friday after Thanksgiving. It will take all of the strength I have not to scream along with each song. I mean, SO hard to do. But I’m 28 years old now and I have to keep tabs on what I do in public. You never know when US Weekly will pop up and take a bad picture of me. um. yeah.
Well I guess that’s it for today. I’ll have a more cohesive post for you all tomorrow. Consider today’s entry to be my own personal introduction back to this website.
Website: “Hello Joe. Whaddya Know?”
Joe: “Fuck you.”
Website: “Aw Joe. That’s not the way to flow!”
Joe: “Stop rhyming dickface.”
Website: “But where you been? Where’d you go?”
Joe: “That didn’t really rhyme.”
Website: “Nice jeans.”
Joe: “Harumph.”
Damn shit I’m super weird today. Weird and sexy.
Disclaimer: First things first…I know I haven’t posted in a while and I apologize for that. Everything’s been kind of up and down over the last couple of weeks and I haven’t found the energy or desire to visit “Cut the Shit” world. But now I’m starting to get my old self back and I feel pretty good about everything. That being said…on with today’s postal!
So I made a huge mistake this morning. I wanted to wear my hoodie cuz its cold outside and it’s kind of like my security blanket. I feel so adorable and warm in it and it just makes me feel a little bit more like home – if that makes any sense. Anyway, when I went to put it on, it kind of reeked of cigarette smoke. Rather than pull out the trusty Febreeze, I decided to squirt some cologne on it. Unfortunately, the only bottle of cologne that I have left is this very large bottle of Perry Ellis. I only squirted a few drops on the sweater, but now I’m sitting here and gagging over it. Perry Ellis smells like shit and it reminds me of someone I hate. So now, all day long, I get to sit here and smell a mixture of stale smoke combined with Perry Ellis of doom. Sick and also barf.
Thanksgiving is upon us! Due to the (never-ending) Iraq war, this will be the first Thanksgiving in three years that my brother has been able to be a part of the family celebrations. And his fiancée, Nina, will be there as well! It’s going to be so great having my brother there to take care of my dad when he gets a little too drunk or talk to my granny when she gets going on one of her stories about what it was like when she was a kid. Although I’m sure she’s a big liar. I don’t believe she was ever a kid. She was born 85 years old, obviously.
I have a little cut on my upper lip today and it stings like a bitch. Good story.
If you haven’t been watching Lost, I simply feel sorry for you.
Guess what I just learned? The word “fiancé” means “a man that is betrothed”. The word “fiancée” means the woman to whom the man is betrothed”. Weird, right? Weird and sexy.
Yesterday I’m having lunch with Ari and as is typical for us, we spotted a “famous” person. Sure, Ari spots people like Dustin Hoffman or Glenn Close…I spot people like Kim Stolz from America’s Next Top Model. Here is what happened: I look up and see Kim walking towards us on her cell phone. Without any thought as to how much of an ass I was going to be, I scream out “You! You’re amazing on ‘America’s Next Top Model’”. Kim made eye contact with me and brushes me off with a “Thanks”. It was a fun moment, but I found myself feeling like a total moron. Cuz I don’t even like Kim on the show. Sure, she’s a lesbian and it’s nice to see a semi-normal person representing the gay community on television, BUT she’s also kind of a loser and is one of my least favorite models on the show. Why couldn’t I have yelled out “You! You’re amazing at being a moron and one of my least favorite models on the show!” At least then I would have been honest. And maybe saved some of my pride.
Not only do I stink like a whorehouse today, I also decided to wear a pair of jeans that I have no business wearing. Denim spandex anyone? I mean, sure, my hair looks fantastic and my skin looks gorge, but my legs are two tree trunks that are stomping around the forest of my life. (Oooooh…very poetic.) I even did full on lunges this morning when I put on the jeans, in an effort to stretch them out a bit. Truth be told, I don’t look bad in them per se, but I’m used to wearing jeans that are a little less form fitting. My nuts are fully squished against the inside of my leg. Ay yi yi. Guess who WON’T be having pizza for lunch?
No I did not download Ryan Cabrera’s “Shine on”. No I didn’t.
Cept I did. For some reason I just love that little bitch. Although his hair is reaching to the moon and back. And I’ve never been one for space age hairdos.
The Rent movie opens next week! I can’t possibly explain how excited I am. I have seen the show 8 times on Broadway – twice in the front row. I know all the words and it’s my dream to one day play the role of Mark. To think that this Pulitzer Prize winning show opened 10 years ago. I saw it for the first time within the first 3 months of its opening and even then I was dying for them to make a movie musical out of it. I will be attending a screening of it with all of my nearest and dearest on the Friday after Thanksgiving. It will take all of the strength I have not to scream along with each song. I mean, SO hard to do. But I’m 28 years old now and I have to keep tabs on what I do in public. You never know when US Weekly will pop up and take a bad picture of me. um. yeah.
Well I guess that’s it for today. I’ll have a more cohesive post for you all tomorrow. Consider today’s entry to be my own personal introduction back to this website.
Website: “Hello Joe. Whaddya Know?”
Joe: “Fuck you.”
Website: “Aw Joe. That’s not the way to flow!”
Joe: “Stop rhyming dickface.”
Website: “But where you been? Where’d you go?”
Joe: “That didn’t really rhyme.”
Website: “Nice jeans.”
Joe: “Harumph.”
Damn shit I’m super weird today. Weird and sexy.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
The Return of the Joe
Be on alert!
Joe CuttheShit returns tomorrow with a brand new post! It's sure to be filled with diarrhea, love, and laughter.
You surely don't want to miss it!
Be on alert!
Joe CuttheShit returns tomorrow with a brand new post! It's sure to be filled with diarrhea, love, and laughter.
You surely don't want to miss it!
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Out of It
I received word this weekend that a friend of Paul and mine was killed in a fight. I can't get into too much more right now, but needless to say, I'm feeling pretty devastated by it.
I'll write more when I get my shit back together.
I received word this weekend that a friend of Paul and mine was killed in a fight. I can't get into too much more right now, but needless to say, I'm feeling pretty devastated by it.
I'll write more when I get my shit back together.
Death
I think my brother said it best. “It’s a rite of passage, Joe. We all go through it at some point and this is your time.”
Finding out that one of your friends has died reminds you that this world is a sad and scary place. Go ahead and get complacent. Go ahead and be depressed. Wallow in your selfish and often, ridiculous behavior. Enjoy(?) it while you can. (Get your shit together Joe.)
Then someone that you know dies.
Ed was not currently a good friend of mine. He was one of those guys that was a part of my life when I lived in Boston (and proceeded to visit there every weekend after I moved), but we haven’t spoken in more than a year. At least. Ed became one of those friends that you see by accident, sometimes becoming a connection within a connection.
But there were times when Paul and I hung out with Ed and partied it up. Often closing up shop at TGIFriday’s on Newbury and piling into his car to smoke some reef before heading our separate ways. We would buy pot from him, give pot to him, smoke pot with him. It was a very potty relationship for awhile there.
But there were also the times when we went to his apartment and just talked. We’d have a beer or two and get to know each other for that moment. Paul and I absolutely adore his ex-girlfriend, K. She was one of those people that just glowed. If I’ve ever seen an angel in real life, it’s her.
K and Ed broke up a few years ago and the communication between them and us, as couples, fell apart. Everyone went there different ways and now…it takes a tragedy for me to sit here and wonder why I didn’t make more of an effort with either of them. It was always…someday our paths will cross again.
Some day.
News of Ed’s death affected me deeper than I would have ever imagined. Mostly because I’ve never really imagined any friends of mine dying. Not even as a “What if?” But I’ve always wondered who I would be when it first happened to me. And oddly enough, it came at an important time.
For the last three days, I’ve been an emotional basket case. I burst into tears over ridiculous shit, I get freaked out by the most nonsensical feelings, I’m once again scared to go on the subway. Death is there and real and lately I’ve felt as though it’s going to slam me on the head like an air conditioner falling from a window.
(sigh)
This feeling shall pass.
Yes?
I’m sure.
If only Ed hadn’t died the way he did. Without knowing the full details, I can say that he was beaten up to the point of hospitalization. And then death. GOD.
And Ed’s a big guy. And a tough guy. But not the kind of guy who dies in a fight.
These kind of things shake me up more these days than they usually would. But when talking to my brother, we realized that there are two types of people in the world.
Those who deal with things head on.
And
Those who put it out of their mind.
Obviously I deal straight on, always. This will hurt for a few days, but I’ll grow from it as best as I can, because…well…I don’t really have another choice. My therapist will make sure of that.
Writing about all of this tonight has brought on my first smile in three days. Wow.
I move forward…
I think my brother said it best. “It’s a rite of passage, Joe. We all go through it at some point and this is your time.”
Finding out that one of your friends has died reminds you that this world is a sad and scary place. Go ahead and get complacent. Go ahead and be depressed. Wallow in your selfish and often, ridiculous behavior. Enjoy(?) it while you can. (Get your shit together Joe.)
Then someone that you know dies.
Ed was not currently a good friend of mine. He was one of those guys that was a part of my life when I lived in Boston (and proceeded to visit there every weekend after I moved), but we haven’t spoken in more than a year. At least. Ed became one of those friends that you see by accident, sometimes becoming a connection within a connection.
But there were times when Paul and I hung out with Ed and partied it up. Often closing up shop at TGIFriday’s on Newbury and piling into his car to smoke some reef before heading our separate ways. We would buy pot from him, give pot to him, smoke pot with him. It was a very potty relationship for awhile there.
But there were also the times when we went to his apartment and just talked. We’d have a beer or two and get to know each other for that moment. Paul and I absolutely adore his ex-girlfriend, K. She was one of those people that just glowed. If I’ve ever seen an angel in real life, it’s her.
K and Ed broke up a few years ago and the communication between them and us, as couples, fell apart. Everyone went there different ways and now…it takes a tragedy for me to sit here and wonder why I didn’t make more of an effort with either of them. It was always…someday our paths will cross again.
Some day.
News of Ed’s death affected me deeper than I would have ever imagined. Mostly because I’ve never really imagined any friends of mine dying. Not even as a “What if?” But I’ve always wondered who I would be when it first happened to me. And oddly enough, it came at an important time.
For the last three days, I’ve been an emotional basket case. I burst into tears over ridiculous shit, I get freaked out by the most nonsensical feelings, I’m once again scared to go on the subway. Death is there and real and lately I’ve felt as though it’s going to slam me on the head like an air conditioner falling from a window.
(sigh)
This feeling shall pass.
Yes?
I’m sure.
If only Ed hadn’t died the way he did. Without knowing the full details, I can say that he was beaten up to the point of hospitalization. And then death. GOD.
And Ed’s a big guy. And a tough guy. But not the kind of guy who dies in a fight.
These kind of things shake me up more these days than they usually would. But when talking to my brother, we realized that there are two types of people in the world.
Those who deal with things head on.
And
Those who put it out of their mind.
Obviously I deal straight on, always. This will hurt for a few days, but I’ll grow from it as best as I can, because…well…I don’t really have another choice. My therapist will make sure of that.
Writing about all of this tonight has brought on my first smile in three days. Wow.
I move forward…
