We used to laugh when we were kids and heard this old fart, Jimmy Durante, sing “September Song”. So maudlin. So trite.
But, really, so scary.
For the song, written by Durante (known to us only from his likeness on Saturday morning cartoons!) prodded us to think that, one day, our parents would die.
One day, WE would die. GULP!
So we laughed (past the graveyard, yuk yuk) at the song. But the grim reaper always has the last laugh.
I sit on my terrace and watch my two kittens at play. They are a bonded band of brothers. They roll around and alternately bite each others’ necks and then hug it out. My mind spins. I think about my sister. We are estranged. That is a polite way of saying we gave up trying to maintain a relationship. I’m sure she has her fairytales about me. I certainly feel as if I gave her every opportunity to be in my life, only to have her nuke each and every moment with inappropriate — no, check that: gratuitously hurtful — behavior. Whatever. Woulda, coulda, shoulda.
On with the show. No longer a slave to client-facing assignments, I spend my days immersed in my passions. Writing stories. Learning music. Reading and watching my favorite old movies and seeing new ones.
Oh, and then there’s this: I ordered a new piano. It is coming next week. Here’s a photo:
When I was a kid, we didn’t have the space or money for such a magical instrument. Now, while there’s time, I’m ready to live “the life of Riley” (a reference to an old radio and TV show). I’ll be honest. I cried a little when I finally pulled the trigger on this purchase. It took so long for the fulfillment of this dream.
On the terrace, Felix and Oscar now swish their tails and pretend to hunt birdies as I ruminate on past glories and failures. What was, and what could-have-been. I think about my family’s story arc. I consider the many dreams deferred. I explore the myriad relationships ruined, but I am warmed by the new families and friendships I’ve kindled in recent years.
Just the other day, the parents of my son’s new wife (and, wow, she’s the best) wished us a happy New Year. Some people have class. Some people are just plain shtunks. You know what I’m talking about, right?
“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” That’s the last line in “The Great Gatsby”. And you know what they say here in the Bronx: Pa’lante! ONWARD!
I mean, really…what choice do we have?
