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Blacktron One <blacktronone1>

"Onward,Forever"

	Canada,Part 8	425 giorni fa
	The Crying Game This week has been the most difficult and rewarding of the trip.I attended the funeral of Janet Lascelle today,aka Kristen's gran,a truly valued family member who succumbed to pancreatic cancer. As you can imagine this was a highly emotionally charged period of time for the family, which is quite large,and with me as the new boy I was in the line-up to meet and greet at the wake.The wake takes place before the funeral here,something I wasn't used to from back home where we tend to have the funeral first and the wake after.A staggering number of people came to pay tribute to Janet,everyone from close family to extended family,distant relatives,old friends(some of them in their 90's),friends of friends, friends of friends of friends.Hand after hand came my way-so you're the...sorry for your loss...where in Scotland...what do you do...the small talk that one must initiate at such an event.This is not to decry such sentiments or the people who make them-every word said was meant and delivered with sincerity,but so many people were being introduced to me that I had trouble keeping up. In the midst of the tears, the stories with their subdued laughter, and the children who don't quite understand what's going on, I thought about my own experiences with death. As many of you know I worked for a time at a memorial masons on the south side, providing those who had lost a loved one with the neccessary stones to mark their graves-easily the most rewarding job I've had and one I intend to return to-but I have sadly attended many funerals.I'm sure as I get older that this won't change and that I have many more to attend but although saddened by the death of an individual I have never been deeply affected by it.All people,even the Krishnas(who think their bodies are like cars)have thought of their own death at one time or another.I have often contemplated my own;what it would be like,who would be there,what songs I would play,who would say what,whether or not to have a viking burial,the usual.Often,I imagined,I would die a hero's death,defending a group of kids from a bear,diving into the sea with a liner-bound bomb,being the last man surrounded by bloodthirsty foes,and have never balked at the idea of passing as long as it was for a reason.You don't want to die and just go,you want it to be in a valiant struggle against something,firing all your guns at once,punching the enemy in the face on your two broken legs.'Greater love hath no man than this,that a man lay down his life for his friends',my father would always quote to me.I reserve the greatest respect for those struck down at inopportune times,those who had more to give,the ones where it doesn't make sense.We want to save them,to stop it,to reach in and take out whatever is causing the anguish,even force it on ourselves,anything to ease their suffering.And after they pass we regret not telling them things,not being there,not appreciating them.My father told me that when his dad passed away there was a lot of unsaid things between them,a lot of unfinished business,and that he didn't want to be that way with me.For those of you who have lost people very close to you,I am truly,truly sorry. When the times comes for me,I'd like my friends to speak truthfully,to tell stories that I was involved in that make them smile,remember in-jokes that we shared,wear all the colours of the rainbow,and honour my playlist,which I have written below: Pink Floyd-Time(either band or orchestral version) Current 93-Idumae(Bonny Prince Billy Version) Radiohead-Anyone Can Play Guitar(and they won't be a nothing anymore:_) ) Manic Street Preachers-This Is Yesterday Bon Jovi-Wanted Dead Or Alive I'd like to think that those who knew me the most would ignore this utterly(apart from the first and last songs)and make their own playlist,kind of like a 'John Mix Tape'.That would tell me more about what they thought of me than any story or anything,although I'd still like a eulogy. Anyway,away from such morbidity and on to other matters. Last week saw me finally plowing through Gone With The Wind in it's entireity,and last night I watched Old Boy.For those of you who haven't seen Old Boy,it's hardly a bowlful of rainbows,in fact the conclusion(which I won't spoil here)is seriously fucking grim,but I'm not sad I watched it.There are absolutely no parallels between it and the Vivian Leigh/Clark Gable civil war epic save for the fact that they both feature people and the odd scene of violence(although ...Wind is a little behind as there's no hammer-based tooth removal)but I enjoyed them about the same,even though I had to watch Gone With The Wind over two days because it's so long.It reminded me a bit of vinyl albums where they had a gatefold sleeve-Yes in particular beingfamous for these with their incredible,otherworldly artwork.In a parallel,I watched MTV2 for the first time in ages the other night.Initially I'll admit there's little to connect these things but...I was apalled at what passes not only for music but for a video these days.Remember when you saw the video to 'Sledgehammer' by Peter Gabriel?Or the weird-as-get-out video for 'Take On Me',or 'Winona's Big Brown Beaver'?I remember looking forward to the Chart Show and seeing what barmy shit people had come up with for videos(ignoring rap and its 'I'm walking,I'm walking,camera on the floor,camera on the floor' nonsense).I'm no longer the music snob I once was-being in radio for a year taught me how little I knew about the music world in it's totality(though this would be balanced later on by realising how much I did know and trying to learn more),but doesn't it seem like people put a bit more effort in before?The video for the new Metallica song,which I waited nearly an hour for,was total piss and reinforced how much 'All Nightmare Long' should have been the first single from 'Death Magnetic'. Theres so many of you that don't need to hear this,but I wonder how many of the kids I spoke to last week would realise that.Yes,I spoke to the kids at the school.Easily the toughest crowd I've ever faced,far more than any gig I've ever done before.While concerning myself with the important things like not getting a boner or waffling too much,I told them how I was educated,told them the styles I played(which is lots),the money I made(which is not)and that they need to play music for the enjoyment of it and not for the financial gain.Most importantly,I learned that I can't play Dragonforce,as that what was I was asked for most.I've never been into playing other people's songs,more to the point learning them slavishly(barring some exceptions),and got very flustered when asked to play a good deal of material.What did please me greatly was how many stayed afterward to talk to me,after I played them a song of my own,Cat Kills Six's ghost-ship epic 'The Fleet',and how many old bands they asked me to ape.Guns 'n Roses,AC/DC and Sabbath all came up in the request list,along with Metallica and lots of other bands off Guitar Hero.I spoke to a class of maybe 70 children,and of that 70 15 or so gave up their whole lunch to talk to me,ask me questions and have their dreams shattered with the unspeakable truths of the music industry.IT was very,very weird being on the other side of the classroom divide,especially as I don't have a problem talking to a roomful of strangers my own age,but when faced with these inquisitive young faces all looking at me,most of them held against their will,it really put me on edge.I explained about my musical injury(which frightened a good number of them),told them some funny gig stories and such,but one thing stuck in my mind more than anything else. There was one boy there,who's name I don't know,but he stood closer to me than the rest.He was very small despite his age,and wore a red t-shirt and khaki trousers,and had genuine,probing questions about my life in bands.The other kids,who were all much bigger,talked over him and he would go quiet,letting them speak and waiting his turn,never cutting across any of his classmates to speak to this bearded,grown up guitar slinger.If he bided his time and asked his question,someone would ask me something as I was answering him and he would look at them,falling silent and waiting for me to answer them,even though I was talking to him directly.I tell you I have never felt smaller.He was just like me-smaller than everyone else,really keen to know the answers to his questions and yet scared of interrupting others to know.A lump rose in my throat when I spoke about him later in the car,and I wished I could have taken him aside,answered all of his questions fully and completely as they came,jammed with him and I even offered to let him play my old Strat-his eyes lit up at the offer and I could hear the sadness in his voice as his mimed playing and informed me that he was lefty Sir,so I can't.Maybe I'm just a sentimental old fool,in fact I know I am,but I would have glady sat with that kid all day,talked to him about the kids in the calss I could see that bullied him,given him all the experience it had taken me years to learn.I told him that I'd been mocked openly at school for being in choirs,being smaller and weaker than the other boys and how I was so grateful that being in bands had given me the confidence to enjoy what I do,and that I was never afraid of facing a group of people while I played. My hand has failed me now,and I can't write anymore.If I put in everything that happened this week in detail this week I would have a hook for sure,but I'll leave you all safe in the knowledge that I'm thinking about you,wherever you are and whatever you're doing,and that it means more to me than you'll ever know that you read my little essays sometime. ONWARD,FOREVER.
	inserito da Blacktron One