listening to La Cage aux folles is a little like listening to Man of La Mancha for me (ironically these shows are put on all over, even Montana (let's see if I have any hidden readers from Montana, aye?)... truly, the quest for identity in something outside of the self is a wondrous romantic passion I've created for myself many times in this life (because, after all, that's what humans do and I tried to fit in a few times)... falling in love... being true to a dream... casting aside all fear and standing up for anyone to see and declaring I am who I am or I am I (Neil Diamond also said it, or was it one of the Pauls {Anka or Simon}...

well, many said it well, few actualize it, but still it is it and it) is the ultimate revelation if you can absorb all the music and see through all the greasepaint and transcend all the loneliness and fear that is at the root of the romantic illusions (but don't burst any bubbles unless you're truly ready or surely depression and despair are sure to follow)...

really, not everyone is ready to be a genius... and rarely has truth been so perfectly summarized than in the simple song I Am What I Am... I mean, life is a sham, life's not worth a damn until you can say to the whole world, to the whole universe, to everyone (especially those closest to you in the real physical world), I am what I am...

and speaking of genius (this comes from a comment I left somewhere):

I love Robin's mind (that's Robin Williams, since you, dear reader, popped into the middle of this brief conversation)... Hook is one of my all time favorite movies (Robin stars in several of my top 100 favorite films, more than most individual actors)... and Peter Pan is one of my all-time favorite stories... you may have mentioned that because you found this info somewhere, but I mention it here cuz your mentioning the connection has me smiling ear to ear...

and I often wonder where do the children play ahayhayhay a... and when I do, I wonder what happened to that cat Yusuf (I mean inside his head cuz the news can only really tell us about his body and actions... it seems, like many in this world, he is going in circles... if he can enjoy them without trying to erase or demean or undermine or discredit anybody else's circle, then yay if it works for him (and you know a way actually works when it does not erase or demean or undermine or discredit anybody else's way, I mean, in case that wasn't obvious to you... unfortunately, it doesn't seem obvious to most people in this world)...

if I had more time I would have linked up my Robin thoughts too, but I was not as curious because I know more about Robin and have read most of what is out there about him so I didn't need to look up anything to satisfy my curiosity...

maybe in an entry somewhere (like here?... ok, be right back)...

and yes yes yes, in fact, senility is often mistaken for the ignorance and innocence of youth... I've seen that in my work a lot as people seem to like to romanticize the failing mind of aging with a return to infancy, but except in surface observation, it's not really so similar... as you said, more like the antithesis...

someday, when the internet comes back, I will upload and link the entry mentioned in this entry... at the moment I'm still groggy from sleep and need to shower and get ready for a Death Cab for Cutie concert... I'm gonna have much fun when I wake up today :)

thanks for stopping by and giving me thoughts :)

that just may have been one of the first comments (or response to comments) in a long line of comment conversation I've recently (or perhaps will, in the near future, if we take the date stamps seriously) inspired by a new amy in my world (and you ought to know by now what the name amy has meant in this life I've generously called mine (the second link barely scratches the surface)...

it I only gathered my consciousness, focused my energy, cleaned up my act, and sang again... maybe you'd understand... but then, it's been many years since I've been on stage or played the theatre game... and as much as I miss it, I am much more suited as an exuberant audience member than any sort of performer these days... and being a has-been has been so done...

understanding of this would require some in person sharing, but in moments like these, faking it is cool... I mean, that is what it's all about... the show must go on, ya know?...

and whether this is a sudden shifting of gears, changing directions, or a brilliant segue is for someone else to determine or prove because I'm just not going to put that much thought in the sequencing of babble bits at this moment, ok? (glee beams from such comfortable carefreeness, in case you aren't aware or senses at the moment), it was somewhere in the November comments of the RealTime� blog that the following responses occurred:

Q - I must laugh, sad though as that truism may be... I am not one to talk as I am in that half that avoids the news and does not vote... I don't mention it much because I think people probably should vote, even if the choice is between limburger and Roquefort (or between horseshit and bullshit, to be more precise) and I don't want to influence anyone not to vote... I simply make my choice out of laziness and lack of habit, but there may be some deeper meaning I'll expound upon behind my abstaining too... as for the news, I believe Mother Theresa was right on that point when she said "I don't read the news because I want to know the truth"...

Z � Death Cab was excellent... and friendly people to bump into and bounce with as well... and Dreamer was very appreciative (as it was her birthday gift) and I felt great getting some in-person real-life appreciation... so all in all, a great concert and a great night...

Harry can be very Garth Brooks, but there are other genres he explores as well... and quite often, his lyrics are amazingly emotional stories... if you can find the 22 minute long There Only Was One Choice you will hear a song that has many musical changes and tells a story I can relate to well... he has hard lyrics about a ghetto kid who became a military hero only to return to the ghetto with just one skill and no job offers... and another song based on the true story of the guy who climbed the tower at the University of Texas a while back and shot people... another is a twisted story about a corrupt politician and a kid who fell in love with his daughter... he has songs about abortion, self-abuse, hopelessness, the stories, even more than the music, is what attracts me to Harry... his words are full of nuances, plot twists, cynicism, hope, and wry humor... and some of my favorites reflect philosophical views I call my own... then I am further influenced (and biased) to love him and his work because he lived a life in and away from music that I greatly admire in many ways...

of course Harry can do no wrong for me, relatively speaking... not that he wasn't a flawed man, I mean, after all, nobody's perfect and he sacrificed a whole lot (he gave up a lot of time with his family in order to travel to sing to people and talk to people about what we could {and should} all do to help each other live in a better world... he may have burnt himself out on the road, but he moved some mountains and I think, actually changed the world... he showed, as John Denver said, what one man can do by living up to his own words of wonder, if a man tried to take his time on Earth to prove before he died what one man's life could be worth... he actualized a very good human dream and all I can say is YAY! Harry)...

returning to music is a good thing for me...

. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
(just let me know you were here)