Alone in the World
here I am again
trying to escape my unbearable life
even here, high in the mountains, far from towns, far from home, hard to shrug off the pressure, the need to be obeying my schedule, my obligations, getting things done, solving problems every damn minute
at sunset last night the elk came out into the roadside meadow, between fifty and a hundred, cows nursing calves
my mind absent with stress, i left my car lights on during dinner, came out in the dark to a dead battery, a little over a mile from my room and a couple hours from the nearest AAA service
i called them and sat in the car waiting for an hour, went back in the restaurant to pee, had to explain to the servers, the cook came out and jumped my battery, got me started
it’s morning, i’m on the veranda in the sun
sky clear, air warming to mid-70s by afternoon
watching the road, people visiting their vacation homes, contractors resupplying or renovating
want to drive across the alpine plateau, never get tired of that endless dreamlike landscape, meadows and lakes and volcanic ridges, but if i wait till afternoon monsoon clouds will come to complete it
brought my guitar, working on a song about a visit with a sometime girlfriend 34 years ago
beautiful, talented young woman struggling with mental illness, to whom i brought an abundance of patience and gentleness but no relevant experience or skills
how as an adult from a severely dysfunctional family she was alone in the world, society demanding she follow the rules, stand on her own two feet
and she tried, again and again, to fulfill society’s expectations, to conform to the patterns of career, home, relationships, consumerism and the market economy, while randomly but continuously derailed by terrifying hallucinations and the impaired judgement and faulty decisions that resulted and regularly misled her
under that relentless pressure from this fundamentally suicidal and homicidal society, afraid of being locked up in an institution, she believed she had been given all the resources she needed to succeed, and when she sought treatment, it was for the symptoms, not the illness
and we think if we could just elect the right president, solve climate change, and allow trans people to serve in the military, we could get back to normal
as i listen to the radio at home every day i note music that surprises me, and after the list nears a couple dozen I review them and download the ones that still surprise me
did that before leaving on this trip, and the result is probably the best playlist I’ve ever put together, ranging from John Mayall (1960s) to Arthur Russell (1980s) to obscure, short-lived British and American indie projects from the past 20 years, women with angelic voices, men who sound like pipe organs, Ethiopian jazz, and “world music” collaborations
so it’s on continuous shuffle on the boombox beside me on the veranda here
and because i can’t just sit and do nothing, i’m writing this Dispatch
and yes, wishing you were here
