She’s actually quite a lovely person, as long as you find yourself in alignment with her version of absolute truth. Any attempt to debate, discuss, refute or think differently from her firmly-established points of view is an invitation to ruin. She can be difficult.
After thirty years I know her pretty well. I’ve learned that “Never a dull moment” is all you can count on. I know that she knows what she wants, and that I can’t tell her anything that she doesn’t already know and also consider to be wrong and beyond stupid so why did I even mention it? Then it’s a spat.
I am conflict adverse, and even when I know for double-dog sure that she is completely uninformed about a given subject, I have learned to keep it to myself, which means that I spend a lot of time looking down at my shoes so she doesn’t see me rolling my eyes. It is also a powerful incentive to spend as much time as I can in the recording studio with the door closed. I don’t see that my presence is missed.
An old friend once ventured, “Relationships have a shelf life.” He’s been married more than twice, and I know plenty of other couples who act like they are ready to trade the relationship either for the single life or what they hope is a better match. The question for all of us seems to be: “Is this how I want to spend the rest of my life?”
Is the devil you know of less concern than the one who might or might not be waiting around the corner? What will it take for me to decide I’ve had enough? Do I even believe in magic anymore or is that done? Does it all come down to cutting your losses?
I don’t know all the answers. If I did know I’d probably suggest that it’s time to practice the notions I preach to myself when I lay me down at night and pretend to sleep:
This is not a dress rehearsal
Bloom where you are planted
Be here now
Life is good
Be careful what you wish for
Then I turn on the light and write down what I hope are the start of lyrics for a new song:
Out of nowhere, a change of plan
Starting all over
all over again
It happens, it happens
Harpeth Rivers is a New Mexico transplant from all over who has in the last year written songs about isosceles triangles, played bass guitar in a band, and declared himself “Retro-eclectic.” His novel-in-progress is entitled Last Year.