I know it's been a long time since I posted, well maybe not long but certainly not short. As I talked about repeatedly it was those pesky midterms; I suppose I could've forced myself to spew out some combination of bullshit and puns that would make for a halfway decent laugh, but really what would be the point? Unless my lack of readers engage with my blog while taking their morning bowel movement, perhaps I should keep my bullshit to a minimum.
Now that midterms are over, I see a good month ahead of me of nothing but green space. Just an open lot begging for me to run through, do cartwheels and plant the occasional seed of imagination. Of course, my imagination has been stuck on a bit of a melancholy loop lately; nothing too serious just bummed out with the passing of Gord Downie.
I know there are people in the world struggling who are far more deserving of sympathies at any given time, and time spent helping those in my local community would be time better spent than mourning the loss of Gord but I just can't help it.
I never met the man but his music had such an impact on my life. Growing up in Buffalo, just a few blocks from the Peace Bridge, I was inundated at a young age with Hip songs.
Though Football was more my sport growing up, I still heard the Hip in most locker rooms, and at most Sabres games.
I was lucky enough to see them perform live at Art Park back when I was in high school and I remember sending my buddy Mark a picture of their show while he was studying for his finals at Queens.
The Hip had that strange ability to write a score for every part of life. If there was an emotion you were feeling you could find a song to match it. Even if that emotion was so ambiguous that you couldn't even describe it through grunts and body language there would be a Tragically Hip melody out there for you to sink into like a hammock.
It always hurts when someone you love and respect for their craft dies, especially when they die too young because--though it's a selfish thought, you know their continued existence makes you happier. You know that as long as they're alive and producing, your happiness can continue to grow; your utility can reach a higher indifference curve because your constraints are expanded by their outputs. Sorry sometimes when I have trouble explaining an emotion I break out my old eco 101 terminology lol.
I ultimately find myself missing a man I never met, and if he lived another fifty years I probably still would've never met. But I miss his impact, and I miss his voice, and I miss the emotions that his words (old and new) could create.