December 19th, 2010.

December’s a hard time for shows.  People are wandering off, vacationing, fed up, tired.  Weirdly the weekday shows probably do better, and I think my open mics are going to be ubercrowded for the next two weeks.  They are the nights when people are looking for a way to get away – nights that can’t be claimed as easily by family and friends – nights where you can slip away and be with your Second Family.

Blood is such an interesting thing.  My brother moved back to the United States, but I have yet to visit him as many times as I did while he was in Texas… and though I never managed to get over to France while he was Living there, somehow I felt a little more in touch.  With his new son and new job, I guess I’m very aware of things happening very rapidly in his world and my not being kept apprised  of the situation.  I think I’m the only person in the family who has embraced Facebook.

Last night, as if to reinforce my thinking about blood, family, whatever – no-one came out to the show at Teavolve but family.  Sure – I may be a little lax in defining “family” (Brennan has no blood connection, but he’s been a part of my Life for longer than Heather)… it was the people for whom ilyAIMY is still a social centre in some way.  It was good to see these friends… but I came home frustrated, angry.  Social niceties and the weight of the world collapsing inwards.  Listening to the news is always a mistake. 

Listening to tales of killings and fires not a mile from where we Live or within in sight of where we play.  Listening to talking heads spinning paranoia about the end of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, listening to lies and watching the desperate homeless gathering at disaster services trucks… the only disaster in town being that people are falling through the cracks…

I feel like I’m aging gracefully in many ways, but I’m certainly worried that the one thing I won’t be able to avoid is an increasing bitterness towards the world around me.  Hatred of the inequalities and blatant stupidities of the rest of my race and the anger that that builds within me.  Knowing that short of homicide, the most I’ll ever do with my Life is rant into the vacuum.  Sometimes I feel like I could scream a message out there and it might get listened to, and that changing one or two minds would be enough.  And then other days – like last yesterday – I know that no matter what I say, it’s just to make me feel like I’m doing something.  I’m simply biding my time as the whole thing goes to shit.  I wonder how Obama has tarnished optimism.  I never thought he was going to make much change in the United States, but I was hoping that he’d bring some positivity to Washington… but for all of those who believed that getting him into office would somehow be a balm to the ills of America and that with his presidency the struggle was over…. I wonder how harsh an awakening this has been.  They thought the job was over… and they sat back and handed everything to the Republicans.

I’m really subject to rambling in my recent Journal posts, aren’t I?  The sky is low and

grey and the promised sun is threatening to break through – but for the moment it’s just a light patch in the DC skies.  Christmas music is playing on the radio as we race south on I-95, unfortunate pop covers of pop-Christmas tunes, re-imagined in the voice of today’s pop divas.  I’m relearning “River”, but it still makes me cry when I practice it, so I’ve got a little bit of control to learn before I perform it Thursday.

My tired eyes catch a glimpse of yet another huge hawk sitting on a lamp post.  I wonder if there’s any sense to the imagery and wonder if there’s anything to the symbolism that the DC-metropolitan area has seen such a huge increase in it’s raptor population.  I guess it’s better than a sudden increase in vultures.