Flies on the windscreen
Is there any cheerier subject to start the new year with than death? I mean, I’m not really the one who started it. If you’re one of the 96% of my visitors who are American you will have no doubt noticed that there’s been a wee bit of that on TV these past couple of weeks. Naturally, the first thing you will have surmised is that Gerald Ford was the most important president in American history and that his funeral will be visiting your town soon. Also, that James Brown no longer feels so good and that Saddam Hussein should have had the Madison Square Garden security staff search people for camera phones before entering.
But actually, I just came from a funeral and so even without all that I would have been thinking about birth and death, rather than my last post which was about the stuff that comes in between. It’s Jewish tradition for the mourners to all help bury the deceased and so once at the cemetery I pitched in. Either those shovels are really heavy or I need to increase my strength training. The birth part comes in because the wife of the friend who passed actually delivered me when my Mom couldn’t make it to the hospital. If you enjoy reading JBall, you should thank her. Not that I wouldn’t have made it out anyway but I could have been even more brain damaged.
In any case, between TV and real life, I’m getting tired of death. Except Saddam, I could probably stand to see him die a few more times. No, I kid, I haven’t seen it, don’t link me, I won’t go. You can tell the news people are getting tired of it as well because I have seldom seen a story reported with such glee as the dude who saved the other dude in the subway station. You can see it on their faces. “A story about someone not dying! YaY!” I mean, kudos to the guy, because I can’t see myself ever throwing myself on the tracks to save someone else’s life. There are rats down there! And used condoms! I know, because I stare down moodily each morning as I listen to the Deftones on my iPod and avoid looking at the untalented whistling Spanish guitar guy who plays at my station.
Anyhoo, I’m looking forward to watching the Flava of Love spin-off, “I Love New York,” not only because I can’t stand any more dead people on TV but because this way I’ll just wish death on a bunch of people.
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The following song comes with an anecdote (I know you love those!). When I worked at the record store in high school, I would always put Depeche Mode on and the manager would always take it off. He told me it sounded like a funeral march and scared off the customers. Once, when I was busy arguing, “no they’re not depressing,” the following song started with its first morose line, “Death is everywhere…..” I didn’t win the argument.
