Hmm, funny how these blog posts work - that paragraph really didn't have anything to do with what I sat down to write about, but as I always tend to say - "that's another post", and then never get back to it, I think I'll expand a bit on that idea.
Yes, I suck at this stream of consciousness thing - So sue me.
Take Eminem for example. though you may revile his music, or him personally, and though his lyrics may be misogynistic and homophobic, the man is truly a wordsmith. Do I aspire to write his kind of poetry? Certainly not, but he is a poet.
It was through a song lyric that I first heard of Aphrodite. I looked her up in the library (no Internet back in those days), so I could better understand a particular song that was a favorite in my hard rocking adolescent days. I still look back amazed at how naive I was at 13. I can assure you, my children are far more worldly than I ever was.
So where am I going with this? I sat down to write about how this blog and blogging are a life line to me, and I suspect to many others, connecting isolated souls to like minded people. What made me think of this, was a song that came on while I was doing housework. More on that in a moment.
It may appear that I'm changing the subject again, but bear with me, someday I hope to have an amazing skill at tying seemingly disconnected ideas together into a beautiful post, but sadly, I am not there yet.
Do you remember a radio show called In The Studio With Redbeard? It apparently still comes on but I haven't heard it in years. The song I heard a while ago reminded me vividly of an episode of that show I heard many, many years ago. If you're unfamiliar with the show, Redbeard, the host takes the audience behind the scenes of a famous album and talks about when and how it was made, and interviews the artists, producers, etc... Great show, btw.
This particular episode was on The Police's 3rd studio album, Zenyatta Mondatta. During the interview portion, Steward Copeland called Sting the king of the three minute pop ditty, and noted that Sting considered it a high calling indeed. I think I'd agree with that sentiment on both counts. Yes, Sting can be pompous, and even pretentious, but come on - who else is going to work Nabokov into a pop song? A funny aside - during the same interview, Copeland said of Sting:
Sting is probably the person whom fame has changed the least, he was swaggering and cocky when he didn't have a dime to his name.
I love that.
So, back to the original post. As I'm cleaning house with the Satellite radio going, I'm thinking that I've really been neglecting my blog, and at the same time, not spending much time on other sites either. Most of my comments of late have been quick little one liners. I miss the ongoing conversations that comment strings can become. I was thinking to myself that it has been ages since I've sat down and just started writing whatever's on my mind. I miss it. I miss all of you, both here, and at your own little corner of the web.
As I'm think that, the live acoustic version of Message In A Bottle came on. As the final verse came on, I stopped folding the towel, and I just marveled at Sting's words. It gave me a little chill as he sang:
Walked out this morning, don't believe what I saw
Hundred billion bottles washed up on the shore
Seems I'm not alone at being alone
Hundred billion castaways, looking for a home
Ill send an s.o.s. to the world
Ill send an s.o.s. to the world . . . . . . .
I thought to myself, that is exactly what blogging is, little messages, floating out on the vast ocean of the Internet, hoping to be plucked out of the water and to find a home. Who says pop music can't be poetry? Not me.
Here is a video of the same version of the song, it is most likely the exact same performance. It is from the Secret Policeman's Other Ball, and yes, I have the LP. Oh, and can one help but notice how young and beautiful he was back then?
Yeah, that's poetry.