Okay, now I’m officially shpooked. This morning I said to myself, “Gee, I wish I had a new Mercedes Lackey book to take with me to Toronto this weekend.”
Twenty minutes ago, our CanPar delivery man dropped off two boxes. One of which contained the new Mercedes Lackey hardcover Gates of Sleep, based on the Sleeping Beauty fairy tale.
I’m almost afraid to take it out of the box.
Wow. Dudley Moore is dead. I was thinking about him completely out of the blue last week. No particular reason, just popped into my head. I spent a day or so trying to figure out why - had I seen a clip from a movie, heard a comedy sketch, or something of the sort. I didn’t come up with anything, so I let it go. Then on the news this morning, they announced his death. Eerie.
Moore was one of those people who was dreadfully, awfully talented. He trained as a classical pianist as well as developing a nasty wit. On Music & Company this morning Tom Allen played two different Moore musical sketches, but the one that sticks in my mind is the Same To You musical piece he did, which is Colonel Bogey a la Beethoven. I almost spilled my tea. It’s right up there with Peter Schickele’s baseball version of Beethoven’s Fifth symphony, Conductor vs Orchestra. (”My God! They’re reprising the opening theme! This has never been done before - listen to the crowd - they’re wild!”)
So I enjoy classical musical humour. Shoot me.
Well, sleeping on it does work! I wrote last night’s post on-line (a no-no I usually avoid by composing in Word and copying it over) and my computer froze as soon as I hit the “Publish” button. Argh! Was it lost? Was it trapped in cyber-space, awaiting my secret Jedi powers to free it?
After half an hour of trying to un-freeze the unit I gave up. If it was gone, it was supposed to be gone, and my earlier post was to stand as to my musings on Eric’s sudden passing. I checked this morning, and voila! My post!
Orchestra tonight - I’m so anti-Bizet that I pulled out my CD and my music this weekend and listened to it over and over, then played the opening bit. Or, I tried. Then I played with the Schubert symphony for a while. Much more satisfying. This marks the first time I’ve touched my cello between rehearsals in, um, five months. Gulp.
Woke up this morning to a delightful bit of Renaissance lute music from a CD called “Lute Music for Witches and Alchemists”. Now I have to own it. Hey, I’m supposed to be enjoying life more consciously now, right?
I have not felt this drained in a long time. I’ve given up trying to work; I’m pretty useless tonight.
Eric’s memorial service was funny, touching, and in general a celebration of a happy man who lived life to its utmost. By far the most enjoyable funeral-type service I’ve ever experienced, it was a chance to share with others how much one individual can have touched your life, while mourning the fact that you’ll not have the opportunity to share time with him again. My husband said that he wants his service to be much the same - but with much alcohol, and dancing too. I’ve never been a fan of the weepy, heart-wringing kind of funeral - what good does that do? - nor of the startling “repent ye sinners and turn to GOD!” genre, so I must say that I’m right with him on this one. Celebration of life is the key, even while we recognise that our lives will never be the same.
All through the afternoon, I looked at each of my friends, and saw individuals with whom I enjoy spending time, with whom I share interests, in-jokes, hobbies. When I said hello or good-bye, I held them all a little tighter, a little longer. Life’s precious, damn it. Why don’t we see that more often?
What is it that prevents us from understanding that at a deeper level? Or, perhaps more importantly, at a superficial, always-on-my-mind level? Why do we let ourselves become burdened, stressed, concerned with what’s wrong in our lives? What does it - any of it - matter in the end? What it all comes down to is you, your friends, your family; your level of peace, the love you feel: what’s right on your life. This afternoon, someone said that one of Eric’s philosophies was, “You can never be too kind”. It’s true. That means reaching out and telling people that you care. It means hugging those close to you. More, it means accepting the hugs from others, their kind words. It means touching others, and making that connection.
After a tough time in my own life, I’d begun looking at my friends and family again and realising how much they mean to me, every one of them. The loss of Eric just highlights that importance. Death points out to us all that we are still living, as difficult as it may be in the wake of such a blow. Not living life to its fullest is turning your back on the simplest, yet most elegantly profound, message the gods have sent to us.
This just in about the choice of Best Picture last night.
I love that scene. I’m such a geek.