Monday, October 21, 2019

Every Time I Think About it I Want to Cry

Pan Seared Pork Chop with Pickled Cabbage Salad.
We could have all lived a thousand different lives and some believe we have or will do so.  Certain conditions and environments must foster creative futures.  We are all just tiny petri dish experiments though. My sister and I could have been a Mexican-American version of Ann and Nancy Wilson in another universe.  We would have nurtured our musical talents to become special.  Maybe.  Well, on second thought, most likely not.  We did have that same type of connection that the Wilson sisters had and we would have blended the rock and soul of the 70's with darker chords of our Midwestern winters. I think there was a sound there to capture for us if we had.  The time was right and the material was all there in our bleak yet spirited town.
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Don't you hate it when old people go back and fret about what they didn't do and then proceed to drag you into it?  Me too, so close your eyes because here I go.  Honestly, I don't have to dig too deep to understand why we didn't have the chutzpah to break out as teens.  We were never outgoing or particularly driven kids. We did want to escape but looked for the shortest route to do so.  Plus, in order to take that big jump, I would've needed to face my deepest insecurities very early on and I already felt pretty defeated by age eleven, so at 16 I was not laying down gifted acts to say the least.  I was phoning in my youth from my bedroom. 
But hearing the songs Crazy on You and Magic Man on the radio turned my little world upside down.  These were girls! Two sisters no less and even though there was a band, the main rhythm was coming out of these two.  Ann's voice was out of my wildest teenage dreams and Nancy's ability to introduce a song with feminine gentle chords and then build up into an orgasmic frenzy rivaled any of my current male heroes.  Together they broadened the scope of possibilities to unfathomable dimensions.  You have to remember just how uninspiring and homogenized towns were in the mid 70's right before the new break in the ice.  Led Zeppelin was already a force but it was unclear if anyone else could ever tow that line of excellence.

I'm not sure if this was her ideal dream but my sis did once have aspirations to be a drummer and I'm sure she had great rhythm.  I know that I wanted nothing more than to be a guitarist in a band someday.  That felt very real.  I practiced all the time for hours in my room and took lessons, opting to play instead of going out on many nights, for years.  Then one day I just stopped for unclear reasons.  I can never put my foot on exactly what caused such a shift in my fantasies?

This is the point in the story where you feel a little pity but also in the back of your mind you're saying, Good Lord woman, get over yourself it's like a million years down the road and besides no one likes sad stories.  I hear you, believe me, no one knows I suck more than me.  And I AM trying to get over it.  I want to understand that's all, before I lower it in the ground and shovel that final dirt on the coffin of my dead dreams. Okay, it's more than that, I don't just want, I really neeeeeed to understand or I may never find a peace in my heart.
Until then, there is plenty of hope, food, love and life to concentrate on!  I made this zesty cool cabbage salad today with red wine vinegar, tomatoes, jalapenos, onion, cilantro and capers.  It almost made me forget all my self made problems.

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