The Sea is a Harsh Mistress

A lot of people don't know I am whimsical, and easily distracted. It has always been a curse. I get lost in things. Normally it only bothers the people who expect me to do something, I am usually pretty happy. It does not take a lot to start an "episode," almost anything will do.

Yesterday +Jeremy Crow  and the Quote Whacko featured the wisdom of Lou Reed, a legendary rocker. Lou Reed was a shining star to many, and the quote took me back in time. On the drive from work to the gym I listened to White Light, White Heat, and Heroin, then whatever came on, which is smarter than getting in an accident going 60 miles an hour.

And I remembered a movie from the 80s with Lou Reed playing an aging rock star (go figure). I don't remember too much about the movie, but it involved a lot of rapidly escalating, ridiculous predicaments, and a lot of people smoking a lot of pot.* Lou Reed was trying to write one last hit song using anything that happened as fodder for the lyrics.

When a limo was taking Lou Reed somewhere, something absurd happened and the driver and front seat passenger started screaming "We're all going to die!" And Lou Reed started strumming his guitar in the back seat and started singing softly "we're all gonna die, we're all gonna die." I started laughing driving down the freeway, that scene still kills me. It is the only part of the movie that I remember well. And I thought, 'the Quote Whacko can be pretty cool.'

After lifting I went to do cardio. Last night it was the rowing machine I cranked the resistance to high. Visual imagery is an important component in the successful use of cardio equipment, otherwise it is a boring slog of painful repetition. Last night I decided to row around Ellis Island, and what the heck I would listen to the Velvet Underground classic Rock and Roll while doing it. On my phone is the live version from Lou Reed Rock and Roll Animal. A great song, wonderful tempo, and fantastic guitar. But, it is about two hours long.**

When they hit the bass solo I had been around Ellis Island several times, left the Upper Bay and was out past Montauk. When the guitar and drums kicked in to signal the end of the solo I was halfway to Europe, my arms, legs and back were cramping, and my lungs were starting the self destruct sequence. There was too much pain to reach the resistance knob and turn it down.

On and on I went, into the darkness, engulfed by agony, no end in sight, "round the Norway Maelstrom, and round perditions flames" and I saw a white light, it called to me, and I had to strap myself to the mast to resist the temptation. And I cursed the Quote Whacko, and the hate drove me. ***

But, I made it, and today limp is hardly noticeable. And I have found it in my heart to forgive the Quote Whacko. And there was much rejoicing.




* Though that might have been me.

** Not really, but it is long.

*** Please accept my apologies for the abuse of reference and metaphor in this paragraph, but I need to wrap this up.