Sunday, October 21, 2007

Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God?

Yesterday was the benefit/tribute concert for my musician acquaintance who was killed a month or so back. Sonar played, and so did Auric's band. Gunner was there, selling shirts along with her brother; and AL was there; and the Friar helped produce the show; and Anacreon and his wife were there; and a whole lot of regulars from the Hangout. The concert had the atmosphere of a wake: some celebrating, and some grieving. Between sets, there were photo slide shows accompanied by voice-over remembrances by friends and family of the deceased. I think I can say without hyperbole that he was the most beloved musician in the city. I didn't know him that well, and I doubt he considered me more than a friend of a friend, but it's nevertheless troubling to think that I will never again see him at the Hangout, strike a pose, and sing in a comically sonorous voice a favorite line from one of his songs.

Anyway. That kind of thing gets me down, not only because he's dead and people are sad, but because it reminds me, stark and clear, that life is short, and I really have nothing to show for it. Above all a significant romantic relationship. And despite myself, that troubles me. Yes, I was wallowing in self-pity at a popular man's funeral.

We all ended up at the Hangout, of course, and stayed until 3:00 a.m. I'm trying not to be antisocial and off-putting, but I'm guarded by nature, and honestly aggrieved by crowds and people leaning into me and asking me questions. Yes, even when it's an attractive woman. Lady, stop touching me and give me some space. I realize that makes me a bit of a freak. I ought to be more of an accommodating, easy-going feller. Old habits are hard to break.

This morning I cleaned the house and did a lot of yard work. I cleared out the alley behind the house where I'd heard scrabbling and gnawing noises the night before. I lugged brush and bricks and swept off the porch. I tried to dig up a stump with a shovel and even an ax, but it was like trying to cut a thick iron pole in two feet of concrete. So I just put a little fence around it so no one would trip over it.

Caterpillars are very numerous this year. Their nasty web-like nests have infiltrated nearly every tree. I saw a lot of large lizards scurrying around the walls of the house, perhaps in a response to the number of bugs. I also saw a lot of hawks soaring around, which is strange --- why were they circling in a group like that? A dead game animal in the suburbs?

The Dog treed a couple of squirrels in the yard, so I shot one. I feel slightly bad about killing mammals, but they really are pests.

4 comments:

Churlita said...

I think it's weird when people you don't know think they can enter your space bubble. Was she drunk?

Chance said...

Almost certainly. But I don't like it when sober people do it, either.

bill said...

I'm sure you've read this: Caring for your introvert.

Chance said...

I hadn't and it's terrific. Thanks.