Paris #1 - Ramblin' & Rodin

After a much delayed flight I finally arrived at Charles De Gaulle Airport and headed to the centre of town to my hotel near the Opera on Rue La Fayette.

The view from the car window allowed me to glimpse a piece of "Paris by night", a cliche phrase that somehow - like many cliches perhaps - seemed very "a point" as I looked at the mellow lighting of this gorgeous city and admired the first tastes of the unmistakable architecture.

Determined to get into a "La Boheme" spirit I arrived at my hotel in the mood of a travelling artist looking for his "garret" for the next three days. Clearly a laughable proposition as my limo dropped me off at the 250 Euro a night boutique hotel resplendent with wi-fi, Bang & Olufsen telephones and mood lighting - and not to mention that not many starving artistes arrive by air, with 15 kilos of cameras and lenses etc... But never mind...

Exhausted, I slept almost immediately, undecided as to what I would do today.

On waking comparatively early I hit the laptop and started looking at how my steps might be traced for the next couple of days combining art, architecture and aimlessness.

Hopping from one Arrondissement to the next on the digital maps I noted all the places I wanted to visit and even looked up opening times and special exhibits. Very organised.

A quick change of dressings on the infernal finger, showered and clothed I set off with some vague sense of purpose and exited to the street into a grey cloud covered sky with a previous rain showing moistly on the ground.

I managed 200 metres before diving into a pavement seat at a stereotypical Parisian cafe and promptly ordered coffee, bread and juice. Necessary preparations for the long walk ahead.

I call this blog "Old Shoes & Picture Postcards" for reasons explained in several earlier posts. Today I had put on distinctly old (but comfortable) shoes. And as I wandered from the Opera to Place Vendome, I started to see the Picture Postcard component.

To say this city is romantic is like saying Las Vegas lacks a little taste... A massive understatement.

It is breathtakingly romantic. That is the only word that I can think of to adequately describe the whole sensation of walking the streets of Paris. Romantic as in William Blake and romantic as in Petrarch & Dante, Romantic as Verlaine and Rimbaud. One literally aches with romance as you walk through the streets of Paris.

Most of all it's romantic like Rick & Ilsa in Casablanca. "We'll always have Paris" he said to her. I think perhaps everyone should always have Paris....

I meandered past the fabulous boutiques of Cartier, Bulgari, and other monuments to the celebration of woman, love and romance and headed towards the Jardins De Tuileries, bumping into a man who was the spitting image of Samuel Beckett along the way.

The gardens were filled with autumn leaves underfoot, provided by avenues of trees shedding their jewels for winter time and creating a carpet for the joggers, families and strolling couples criss-crossing the pathways, all heading somewhere, but only some of them knowing where.

In the corner of this little park, by the Place De Concorde, is the Musee De L'Orangerie. The building picked by Monet personally to hold his large paintings of the water lillies. I had visited some twenty odd years ago in a post examination summer visit with my mother - the cultural bastion of the family - and was somewhat curious to return.

But I found I could not go in. Not because access was denied or any physical impediment, but because I simply did not want to. I can't explain exactly what came over me, but I just couldn't go in. I felt better to stay outside, in the park.

Instead of entering the museum, I loitered - with quite some intent - by the bronze of Rodin's "Le Baiser" (The Kiss). I am a big Rodin fan and this work is sublime.

Somehow today in the grey, cold and damp environs of the park, this bronze seemed even more powerful and evocative to me. It contains the essence of human erotic contact - it is intensely physical, the whole of the two bodies intertwined in a dynamic embrace and yet despite the physicality it is also incredibly tender and delicate, metaphysical, emotional.

"Le Baiser" - Auguste Rodin

The strength of the man holding the woman with definitive grip, the woman abandoning herself to his embrace, their heads turned to allow their mouths the most full and frontal contact possible, eyes closed, her arm resting on his leg, his hand supporting her thigh as she sits on his lap.

The most wonderful, most tender, most poignant, joyous and heart aching kiss you ever had looks like this. Feels like this.

I crossed over the bridge to the Rive Gauche and made my way to the Musee D'Orsay having decided that the Monet's might wait until tomorrow when I may be more prepared to enter and see them.

As I walked along the banks of the Seine I had a curious, inexplicable feeling that I was not alone. That someone was with me. As I walked, I began to feel that the more I walked, the more likely it was that that person would appear. Feeling like Orpheus I dared not look back - preferring to hold the thought in my imagination as I took my steps.

Maybe there is a far away spirit that is supposed to be here with me - the lone traveller - in Paris.

At the Musee D'Orsay I was once again confronted with a strong desire to NOT go in. It wasn't the queues for entry that put me off - but a curious feeling that today I must be outside. I must walk and be among people and buildings, breathing the air and moving through this city.

And this is truly a city for walking. Most great cities have a "walking" component - some classic places for a stroll. The parks of London, New York and Madrid all spring to mind. The alleyways and turns of Trastevere in Rome, the centre of Florence, Gamla Stan in Stockholm, Las Ramblas and Istklal Caddesi in Barcelona and Istanbul respectively - but Paris is ALL designed for walking. Rain or shine.

As I sit and write this outside the Musee D'Orsay, I am beginning to think that this trip to Paris is a reconnaissance mission. This is maybe why I cannot go inside these museums.

I plan to get lost in the Left Bank now and wander to St Germain Des Pres and Le Marais ... And just take in the steps, note things for tomorrow or the next time I am here.

There is one garden I will visit - filled with sculptures - and where I will sit for a while and reflect. But everywhere else I think I will just wander by - in preparation for next time...

Until then I don't want to spoil it...

Unplugged . . .Part 2

While I’m “acoustic” I thought I’d take another look at a theme I mulled over in the summer – “The Courage to Live”.

The original piece I wrote was inspired by - and in response to - a part philosophical, part existential question posed by a person very dear to me.

While this second analysis of the subject started with my own musings on dealing with the adversities of life, I found much inspiration from the thoughts of two men – Walter Anderson (an American magazine editor) and Rollo May (an existential psychologist & author).

I came across both men while researching this piece and was struck by Anderson’s very common sense logic and simplicity and by May’s altogether more challenging thinking in his pioneering work in existential psychology.

In particular May’s belief that apathy was the opposite to love and that as humans our unique knowledge that we are to die, liberates the human will to act and to be. In other words, our lives are defined by the knowledge that one day we will die.

We either act against that continually and live, love, act - or we accept it apathetically and let our selves deteriorate to almost non-existence. Either we find the meaning of life inside ourselves, or we accept that life has no meaning, and therefore we as beings are meaningless.

The last time I tackled this subject I focused on optimism as the driver for courage. The ability to see the possible, the positive, the good and the upside. To be hopeful.

I think optimism – of which I am a committed practitioner – is one half of the courage to live. But I think that there is another part to courage that is equally important and perhaps a pre-cursor to optimism. It’s about choosing life – and the things necessary to make that choice . . .

“I am responsible. Although I may not be able to prevent the worst from happening, I am responsible for my attitude toward the inevitable misfortunes that darken life. Bad things do happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of my loss, or I can choose to rise from the pain and treasure the most precious gift I have – life itself.” - Walter Anderson

To choose life we need courage.

Courage is a big challenge for many of us. That inner strength or confidence to take on something we have no idea will work out, to face a difficult truth or fear, to pass through a difficult period. Where the downside is loss, pain, expense, cost, discomfort or some other misfortune and where the upside may be invisible, or only partially clear. . . that’s quite a big bet for a lot of us, and it’s something we face on an almost daily basis.

Of course most of us find the courage we need for the little things in life through comparative experiences. If this does not work then we turn perhaps to our friends, our families, colleagues, or our partners – but the big things in life are much more difficult.

We need a special kind of courage to deal with those big challenges and fears – we need courage from within.

And I believe courage is born of trust. Optimism may sustain that courage, but for it to be born, it is born of trust.

Trust of ourselves.

“Our lives improve only when we take chances and the first and most difficult risk we can take is to be honest with ourselves.” Walter Anderson

It sounds simple, but it isn’t. To trust ourselves we must make ourselves vulnerable to our very own self. We must first expose and then accept our fears, our weaknesses, our challenges and those parts of our selves we would rather ignore or rather run away from.

Not only must we accept them and acknowledge them, we must embrace them. We must bring them close to us and see that they are a part of our “self”.

This is very hard for many of us as it often involves struggling with feelings of guilt, low self-esteem, bitterness, sadness and frequently a feeling of being lost, confused, out of control, consumed and detached from our good selves. These are unpleasant emotions and behaviors at the best of times and we naturally do not want to dwell on them – but dwell on them we must if we are to understand them and accept them.

As we spend time becoming accustomed to our “dark sides”, our fears and our weaknesses, we can begin to contextualize them, and then begin to accept them as part of us.

First we should accept that our fears, weaknesses and occasional bad behaviors are human. They are natural and they are normal. We all have them; they are part of every one of us.

None of us is “damaged goods” just because we are afraid sometimes, just because we are weak occasionally or because we behave badly now and again.

If we are jealous or angry, selfish or harsh, nasty or cold it is only because we are also compassionate and patient, generous and gentle, affectionate and warm.

I believe that to a large degree our personalities are defined by duality  - as it is through contrast we understand what is right and good, and what is wrong and bad. As good defines evil and vice versa, so do our happy and good characteristics define our unhappy and bad ones (and vice versa).

Second, to accept our “selves” as “whole” by acknowledging all of our characteristics and personality traits is not an act of relegation or dismissal. It is an act of forgiveness.

However, forgiveness is not absolution.

To forgive our self is not license or permission to behave without consequence – it is instead to acknowledge our mistakes, our weaknesses and to resolve first to live with them and second to work with them.

Think of coming to the realization that one is overweight for example. To forgive oneself for being overweight is a healthy thing to do. To see that forgiveness as permission to carry on being overweight and neglect oneself is not healthy. To build on the forgiveness of oneself by resolving to lose weight and thus take care of one self better is the healthy response. (A personal example there!)

An alternative might be hurting someone’s feelings. Initially on becoming conscious of this “bad” behavior, we might feel guilty and remorseful. We might even “punish” ourselves in some way – but instead we should forgive ourselves and then build. By which I mean, acknowledge that hurting people happens. We don’t mean to hurt most of the time and when we do so we need to accept it as part of life. An ugly part of life by which we can also understand a more beautiful part like care, affection, nurture (the opposites or contrasts of “hurting someone”). But then we must move on to build and resolve. Why did we hurt that person? What caused it? Can we avoid doing so in the future? Can we at least mitigate the hurt we cause? These kinds of questions – if answered honestly and truly – can help us understand our behavior better – and consequently avoid it (at least more often) if we resolve to.

And there is a good reason for us to go to this trouble of acknowledgment, forgiveness, analysis and resolution . . .

Learning to live with one’s fears, weaknesses and negative behaviors is learning to take care of oneself. It is the act of care for one’s “self” that enables us to grow as people and to find balance and peace.

Taking care of ourselves is the most basic expression of love for our “self” – and in turn the most basic way of reassuring ourselves that we have value, that we are worthy, that we are attractive, desirable and so on.

"To love means to open ourselves to the negative as well as the positive - to grief, sorrow, and disappointment as well as to joy, fulfillment, and an intensity of consciousness we did not know was possible before."  Rollo May

It will not and cannot prevent us entirely from facing fear or weakness again – but it provides us with the means to begin to be comfortable enough with our “self” to be able to trust and trust provides us with the mechanism with which to deal with our fears and weaknesses – as our trust in others allows us to deal with theirs.

We usually think of trust as something we direct to someone else – and not to ourselves. Not something that relates to our relationship with our “self”. But in fact, no matter how much we may want to, we cannot trust anyone else if we cannot trust our “self”. 

Think of this quotation – again from Walter Anderson:

“We're never so vulnerable than when we trust someone - but paradoxically, if we cannot trust, neither can we find love or joy”.

Think of the same concepts but placing our “self” in place of “someone”.  If we cannot trust ourselves, how can we trust anyone else?

And if we cannot trust then we cannot love.

I am slightly unusual in this regard in that I place a lot of trust and faith in people based on either instinct or hope or both.  In my professional life it is called “empowerment” and for me it has always been the force that motivates me to do and be my best at work. When I have been trusted I will go the extra mile and more. I do not want to let that person down. As a result of my own experience I tend to trust and empower others. I trust in something I have no reason to – in other words I have faith.

In my personal life it is less about empowerment per se than it is about a desire for engagement, for connection. It is my currency for connection.  I empower someone else to be in my life is perhaps another way of putting it. I have faith in them as another human being that they will act with compassion. I have faith in them.

Many times – both professionally and personally - my trust has been abused, broken or otherwise misplaced, my “currency” stolen, but I cannot help myself and remained committedly optimistic. I believe that to give someone trust based on faith, and without particular knowledge or “testing” is generous and kind– albeit very risky, as it makes one vulnerable. But then that is the nature of trust!

Of course I realize it can be overwhelming for some, but I believe that trust is such a binding connection, such a force for good and so precious, that I cannot hide behind the fear of risk when the return is so energizing and positive. And I hope to God my optimism in this regard is never tainted and turned to cynicism.

Of course trust is not a switch. It’s a slider (think of a mixing desk in a recording studio and all those lovely sliders which slowly increase the volume, the reverb, the bass, the treble etc).

A switch is binary, a slider is dynamic. Trust is a dynamic emotion – not a binary one.

However, while trust can grow gradually and relatively as well as quickly, when it is broken it can sometimes be pretty absolute.

My experience though is that the greater the genuine trust, the greater the capacity for forgiveness.

Trust enables us to overcome our fears. To have courage. To find our faith again

“You block your dream when you allow your fear to grow bigger than your faith.” Mary Manin Morrissey (Empowerment Specialist and “New Thought” Minister)

So to recap:

Through accepting our “self” with the fears and weaknesses we have, we can learn to love our whole self (not just our good self) – because we forgive and resolve. We resolve to take care of our “self” and love our “self” because we conclude that we are worthy of care and love. We provide that love and care to our “self” and we begin to trust our “self” because it is familiar, it no longer frightens us, and we have learned to have faith in it.

So when we need to find the courage to live through the really difficult parts of life, we need to look within ourselves.

If we have learned to accept our fears and weakness, if we have learned to forgive ourselves for those things we have done which we would rather not have done, if we have learned to trust ourselves, then we will find the strength within to be courageous. To find our faith again.

And if we are courageous we will find not only how to live, but also how to love.

Each of us is worth life and worth love. Each of us deserves life and deserves love.

When we can feel and understand why we deserve life and love, we will find the courage to live life, to love and ultimately - to be loved.

So the courage to live is also the courage to love. For to live is to love and to love is to live.

In the words of the renowned psychologist and psychoanalyst Erich Fromm:

“Love means to commit oneself without guarantee, to give oneself completely in the hope that our love will produce love in the loved person. Love is an act of faith, and whoever is of little faith is also of little love.”

This piece is “αφιερωμένο” to my "Λέαινα"  - I hope this helps you to find the "Play" button. 

Unplugged . . . Part 1

I slept badly last night because the switch for the reading light in my hotel room was broken and I could not turn off the light. What had made it possible to read - now made it impossible to sleep.

I tossed and turned through the night, finally calling time on the effort to sleep in the early morning and sat up to read. Now I wanted the light again . . . how ironic.

As I turned to re-arrange my pillows I noticed a wire behind the bed-board and traced it to a plug. I unplugged it and magically the reading light finally went out. What a combination of joy (at discovering how to solve my problem) and frustration (that I had not discovered this simple process some 8 hours earlier).

I left the light unplugged and tried to nap, but to no avail and ended up sitting up again, plugging in the light and reading the morning paper. Plugged and unplugged. In the right sequence and at the right time, it was perfect, and in the wrong sequence a catastrophe.

But my learning of the morning was not so much about sequencing and choices, but the difference I felt when I no longer felt forced to have the light, but could chose to have it on or not. That freedom took me from resenting the light to loving it – knowing it was there for me when I needed it, but not having to have it flashing in my face when I needed to sleep.

Tonight I will look forward to my light to read by before sleep, and to “unplugging” it before I sleep, and then to reconnecting in the morning to read once more.

Feeling relaxed about the freedom I now have, I realize that sometimes when there isn’t a switch, instead we have to plug in and unplug to find the balance of what we want and need. 

And that takes time to learn sometimes. . .

Η Επιστροφή- The Return (2011) – Part 6 - Top 40

So  . . . the trip is almost at an end. . .

My ride today was great for the first 400kms and awful for the last 175kms. I was so terrified I thought I was a goner for sure. Very strong winds which blew me right across the road and at one point when overtaking a truck, blew me straight into the side of the it. I was fortunate to get away with it and my whole body spent two hours of being tensed up while my mind was lost somewhere in the land of fear.

But I made it, chilled out, showered, emailed and relaxed. . .

I've just had dinner which was good - indeed very good - but not enjoyable for some reason . . . I think mainly due to the snooty French waiters.

When looking at the menu I told the Maitre D that I didn't like French cheese . . . I think if I'd said I was planning on killing his children he would have been less disgusted and horrified . . .

Indeed later in the meal, another waiter came over to my table to verify the fact that I didn't want the cheese course and asked "You do not like cheese???" as though asking "You do not believe in God???"...

I did however discover an amazing new dessert wine to add to my portfolio of favourites:

Domaine Cauhape
Jurancon
2008
Symphonie De Novembre

The smell of the wine intrigued me - a bizarre, unique and unnervingly compelling mixture of rotting gooseberries and a piece of pickled cabbage married to freshly picked incredibly juicy and fragrant strawberries swimming in honey  . . . Now I know why wine tasters say daft things like that . . . because it is the only way of conveying a sense of the flavour.

Very nice.

But I'm not going to write about the meal, the people in the restaurant or the waiting staff . . . it would be tedious in the extreme and I have written enough about food this trip.

It was great food, amazing wine and an overall disappointing experience based mainly on my mood and mindset coupled with French gastro-snobbery . . .

Beaune remains the best meal of this trip and well deserving of its "Top Ten Greatest Meals of All Time" position.

Instead of writing about the food I ate, I am going to share my Top 40 from the massive playlist I put together for this trip.

Picking only 40 from the playlist of 260 favourite tracks is difficult, but I have done it quickly and based on gut. I will kick myself tomorrow no doubt!

The Top 40 (in no particular order!) :

1. Comfortably Numb – Pink Floyd
2. Not The Drinking – Lauren Pritchard
3. Consolers of the Lonely – The Raconteurs
4. You Don’t Understand Me – The Raconteurs
5. Heart of Saturday Night – Tom Waits
6. 29 Dollars – Tom Waits
7. Christmas Card From a Hooker in Minneapolis – Tom Waits
8. Chasing Cars – Snow Patrol
9. Rude Boy – Rihanna
10. Set Fire To The Rain – Adele
11. Somewhere Only We Know – Keane
12. Like A Hurricane – Neil Young
13. Moonage Daydream – David Bowie
14. Right in Time – Lucinda Williams
15. Shake, Shake, Mama – Mance Lipscombe
16. Statesboro Blues – Taj Mahal
17. Waiting Around To Die – Townes Van Zandt
18. It’s Alright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding) – Bob Dylan
19. If You See Her, Say Hello – Bob Dylan
20. Sara – Bob Dylan
21. Thank You – Led Zeppelin
22. The Everlasting – Manic Street Preachers
23. Get Over You – The Undertones
24. Lust For Life – Iggy Pop
25. Things You Don’t Have To Do – Peter Malick Group
26. Tweeter & The Monkey Man – The Travelling Wilburys
27. Talk – Coldplay
28. Rewind – Paolo Nuttini
29. You On My Mind In My Sleep – Richard Ashcroft
30. Side – Travis
31. Bittersweet Symphony – The Verve
32. Catching the Butterly – The Verve
33. Know How – Young MC
34. Konichiwa Bitches – Robyn
35. Dead Flowers – The Rolling Stones
36. Sympathy for the Devil – The Rolling Stones
37. Shine A Light – The Rolling Stones
38. Gimme Shelter – The Rolling Stones
39. Sexual Healing – Marvin Gaye
40. I’m A Ram – Rev. Al Green

 I could write a commentary to every song, or provide a YouTube link - but I won't.

If you're curious, send me an email, if you don't know the song, put it into YouTube search.

What I will say is that these songs - at one point or another on my trip - made me stop breathing, sing out loud at the top of my lungs, consider my existence, weep with joy or simply lose the power of logic for a moment.

Music does that and without these songs  - and many others - this trip and all that I have done, written, thought, dreamed or hoped, would not have been the same.

Music - the soundtrack to our souls. Simple.

Pause: Relativity...it could be worse....

All things are relative.

I say that a lot to friends and colleagues - always wanting to point out the (usually positive) effects of perspective and context when applied to our own situations.

Tonight I find myself administering the lesson to myself and coming up ashamed as a result.

I have had a colossally shit and tiring day. After flying back in the middle of my holiday to spend a weekend in meetings for a large but very difficult and demanding client, I ended day one yesterday exhausted. My shoulder was killing me and I had no pain medication to hand.

I slept badly and woke up several times in the night - finally falling into a deep sleep about 40 minutes before my 6am alarm. (Isn't it always the way!).

With only one cup of coffee on board I set off to start my first part of the meetings today at 7am.

We finished the meetings at 7pm, frazzled and arguing over strategy for negotiations. I had a brief respite for 15 mins to catch up on urgent issues with my beloved PA who gave up her weekend to assist this meeting and then on to a client dinner which we all needed like a hole in the head.

The client then kept us waiting for one hour so dinner was very late and everyone was fed up and desperate to get some rest.

Final discussions with the client pre dinner left me feeling very despondent after all the work and effort that had been put in and I went to the table in a very black mood. So bad in fact that I didn't speak. (Yes - I know. That is pretty serious).

Making the earliest get away possible without being rude, I took some colleagues back to their hotel before heading home listening to Exile On Main Street to try and get my spirits up while all that happened was I simply felt like a rolling stone... No fixed abode, disconnected and rambling. I was also shattered in terms of tiredness.

As I got home I was feeling very sorry for myself - tired, fed up, alone and despondent.

Poor me.

Then I got a message out of the blue from a friend who has cancer and has just completed her first round of chemotherapy.

And I recalled another message earlier in the day from another friend whose mother is very unwell following a very nasty car accident which could have killed her.

I then remembered my own mother who has just completed major surgery and is having a slow and difficult recovery having lost five pints of blood while under the knife.

And I suddenly felt quite ridiculously and pathetically self-centred and obnoxious.

Trouble and pain are relative. I'd love to have a groundhog day of my "shit" day today than have cancer.

I'd rather my friend's mother had only undergone scheduled surgery as my mother had - instead of being in major pain as she is and still waiting for surgery.

And I wish I could have undergone the surgery in place of my mother and lost my blood, while she did my meeting today instead.

And so on.

Relativity.

My trivial, self indulgent moaning was exposed for what it is when compared to real issues like health and nasty disease. And I felt - indeed feel - truly embarrassed at myself as a result.

None of my complaints about my day are even mentionable in the face of what three or four other people close to me in one way or another are going through.

I do not wish surgery or cancer upon myself of course - unless perhaps it could prevent someone else from having to go through it. And even then, being truly honest, I would most likely still recoil into my selfish little ball if this were to be offered up as a real life option. Because ultimately we are all capable of being selfish - especially when it comes to self preservation or pain avoidance.

I spent a moment admonishing myself for being ridiculous, shallow and self indulgent - and then spent a couple more moments exchanging thoughts and wishes with my friend with cancer.

I'm not going to spend the rest of the night beating myself up. I'm human.

But now and again it is good for us to apply a little relativity to our situations and see them better for what they are.

Sure, I worked a 14 hour day on a weekend in the middle of my vacation while tired. But in my meeting room no-one shot at me or put land-mines by the coffee area. I wasn't in a far off frightening and inhospitable country. (Well, the UAE isn't that bad!)

I didn't watch a loved one racked with pain or fear for their life . I didn't starve or have to worry about feeding myself - indeed I had restaurant food for lunch and gourmet food and wine for dinner. (Although unusually for me, my mood was so bad I enjoyed neither.)

So really, relatively speaking, I'm a very fortunate person. A lucky devil.

As I lie back in my bed and reflect on this I feel quite alone and find myself wishing I could connect to something real for a moment to ground myself and settle my soul.

I'm Looking for the Heart Of Sunday Night...(Last Sunday night to be precise . . .)

Here are the lyrics of that magnificent song...other than the play on the words of the title, the song has not much to do with how I feel right now - other than it is a beautiful song and while I am feeling ugly in terms of my thoughts and bevahiour - it's just what I need to hear to lift my mood...


(I'm Looking For) The Heart of Saturday Night - Tom Waits

Well you gassed her up
Behind the wheel
With your arm around your sweet one
In your Oldsmobile
Barrelin' down the boulevard
You're looking for the heart of Saturday night


And you got paid on Friday
And your pockets are jinglin'
And you see the lights
You get all tinglin' cause you're cruisin' with a 6
And you're looking for the heart of Saturday night


Then you comb your hair
Shave your face
Tryin' to wipe out ev'ry trace
All the other days
In the week you know that this'll be the Saturday
You're reachin' your peak


Stoppin' on the red
You're goin' on the green
'Cause tonight'll be like nothin'
You've ever seen
And you're barrelin' down the boulevard
Lookin' for the heart of Saturday night


Tell me is the crack of the poolballs, neon buzzin?
Telephone's ringin'; it's your second cousin
Is it the barmaid that's smilin' from the corner of her eye?
Magic of the melancholy tear in your eye.


Makes it kind of quiver down in the core
'Cause you're dreamin' of them Saturdays that came before
And now you're stumblin'
You're stumblin' onto the heart of Saturday night


Well you gassed her up
And you're behind the wheel
With your arm around your sweet one
In your Oldsmobile
Barrellin' down the boulevard,
You're lookin' for the heart of Saturday night


Is the crack of the poolballs, neon buzzin?
Telephone's ringin'; it's your second cousin
And the barmaid is smilin' from the corner of her eye
Magic of the melancholy tear in your eye.


Makes it kind of special down in the core
And you're dreamin' of them Saturdays that came before
It's found you stumblin'
Stumblin' onto the heart of Saturday night
And you're stumblin'
Stumblin' onto the heart of Saturday night
-------
If you don't know the song, you can listen to it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f7UHd7NVegE 

So here I am on Saturday night, and I'm looking for the Heart of Sunday Night...And finally feeling sorry for my selfishness instead of sorry for myself...

An improvement over an hour ago.

Sadly it took cancer, surgeries and a near death accidents to provide perspective and to re-calibrate my gauges...but then as Einstein used to say, "That's relativity folks".