Thursday, May 18, 2017

Fell On Black Days

A rewrite of original post
This was the day Chris Cornell was found dead, an apparent suicide.  Cornell, this youngish, healthy, golden voiced man.  What a shock. I immediately thought of Norm MacDonald.  On his show he speaks of when someone says, I can't imagine why anyone would commit suicide and his response is 'Really??!!  You can't imagine???' equally stunned and amazed.   I love comedians for getting to the core of such a truth with righteous humor.  In reality, the number of possible struggles any of us can have is endless.   The effect of his drastic actions has given us all food for thought this week and I'm trying to understand why it's haunted me so much.
At first it's impossible not to think, wait, golden voice, uniquely handsome. What are those, blue grey eyes? Um, did I mention successful, talented, I'm assuming a happy family.  Tall, thin and had all his hair.. at age 52.  Dare I say he could even pass for white movie Jesus.  Isn't my lack of all those things exactly why I am so unhappy??  What drove a doubly blessed man to commit a heinous act at at time in his life that seemed by all my accounts to be pretty wonderful?  No, this just doesn't make sense. What's our takeaway from this?  Everyone is miserable deep down inside?  You can't have it all and even when you do, it can still suck?  Don't trust pharmaceutical drugs?  Depression is the heady step brother of cancer?  I hate everything about this story.  Hanging.  That is so harsh and radical. How do you even hang yourself in a bathroom?  And what is an exercise neck band anyway?  Blood dripping, extra pills.  There was a lot going on at that scene.
Then the wife, with the penning of the personal letter to her husband yet publishes it publicly.  Probably some folks will see this as a beautiful gesture.  I will just say I am not a fan of that.  You can't go after a grieving widow and anyone who does is an inconsiderate assface.  So.
I did heavily wear out the first Soundgarden albums and even had to safeguard my character at the time in San Francisco.  When I first met my husband, he challenged any of my bands that didn't meet his criteria.  He said their lyrics were shallow, nothing was real.  I never had someone scrutinize my musical choices before, however he always did it in such a polite way I often just felt stupid afterwards. almost apologetic. He always had valid points. But I love the fact that a person can like any music for absolutely no logical reason.  For me, it was about his scream and the vitality, the energy he was evoking.  Not necessarily pretty but painting the angst, the frustration, and bleakness of the time. This was the time of hair bands and new wave, a real turning point in music.  So you experimented with a lot of indie sounds. I reminded myself not to mention my love of Skinny Puppy and Revolting Cocks, and my bouts with speedcore. This band was the Beatles compared to some of that stuff.  Plus Soundgarden sounded really great when you were happy stoned.  I remember just letting my hair sort of cover half my face listening and laughing with my roommates.  Smoking hash during the days, seeing shows at night.  No food in the fridge.  Leisurely strolls in my lower Haight neighborhood, just kicking around.  Sobering adult type problems were approaching.  I think they were actually pounding on my front door but we couldn't hear them because the music was too loud.  But by the time BadMotorfinger came along, I guess I sort of put down the bong for awhile. However now they were more melodic so I secretly still listened.  Years later I attended one of his solo shows and was blown away by the quality and tone of his voice.
I am very heavy-hearted that Chris committed suicide.  Some say it's a bummer for recovering addicts.  I say it's also very sad for people prone to that deep depression, however highly functioning.  I'm upset that after his other pharma addictions, he would trust an anti anxiety script.  Who was watching out for him?  That made for profit crap is not the answer.  I hope further probes might shed some light on the dangers of doling out these pills without proper follow up and observation.  #donttrustbigpharma.

Hitting close to home is the fact that everyone I know is dealing with bouts of anxiety and depression right now and me, it might as well be paying half of my rent as much as it comes around.  You're almost crazy if you don't feel the heaviness.

Elephants gather round their dead loved ones, picking up the bones, recalling their friends, honoring them.  In that same vein I've been watching old interviews, playing the albums and videos as I've come to do now with all our important recently deceased musicians.  Paying my respects.  Dying early of disease, drug complications, etc - all terrible things.  But this one hits extra hard.  Suicide by hanging is a desperate rage, such a disturbed state.  I can still hear the echo of his brutal act in the distance tonight and I pray my demons never catch me weak or any of my loved ones.  
Rest in peace sweet man.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Just nod if you can hear me. Is there anyone at home?