I suspect that I'm not the only ex-hippie baby boomer that has been having songs rise to the edge of consciousness that I'd never thought about before in the way I am thinking about them today. I am hearing soundtracks in my head that could be made into a youtube video of my life if I only knew how to do that.
Actually I know how to do that but I don't have time to do it. Actually I have time to do that but I'm playing catch up from the fits and starts of my life recently and I intend to do that.
Actually, I'm happy to be alive at this very moment. And living in Alabama where the conversations are just now beginning to have some real meaning. I actually can see the change coming around the corner, down the street, etc. I am actually in the most delicious part of history. Why? Because I can write on DailyKos and a handful of my friends around the world will see it, and a whole host of people I will never meet can nod and go on about their business. But somewhere, someone will say, (I hope) Susan, have you got enough of this written down that we can shape it into a script? Or a manuscript? Because I've had a front row seat to the changes this world has been experiencing for a very long time.
Since the 70's in fact. In the 70's, before my first child was born, I was a flight attendant for Delta Air Lines. I met soldiers coming home from Viet Nam, some in body bags and some sitting defiantly next to the Black Power fist embroidered on their hanging bag. I met Michael Jackson and his entire entourage when he was 10. I met Terry Sanford and Issac Hayes and Marvin Gaye and Eddie Albert and John Denver and Clint Eastwood. And I met businessmen on their way to New York to make million dollar deals - which they always informed us of when the plane was even a few minutes late. And I talked to them and listened to them and wondered what it all meant.
And when my children were born I wrote. And I drew. And painted my world in every house we bought and sold, painted their world every beautiful color I could on the limited budget I was allowed, and sought solutions to the problems that we faced as a couple with all the resources that I could muster. And I lost the battle for my family. My marriage didn't make it through the 80's - neither did my business. My children have suffered the disastrous consequences ever since.
I am lonely for a different reason than you might think, however. I don't think I miss the dogma of the role of "wife" nor do I miss the tragic role of "daughter" or the uncomfortable role of "sister" so much as I miss the open give and take of communication that we once knew. I'm lonely for the conversations that we once had among ourselves before the world became all about "us" versus "them" - whether that be christians vs. atheists, workers vs. jobless, welfare "queens" vs. sexy doctors wives, or whatever other comparisons you can make. I'm lonely for people who think, who listen, who respond to what I have to say thoughtfully, reasonably, with out polarizing influences. I'm lonely for the days when a person could speak their minds with out worrying about who might be offended. Who might be made to look "bad" and who might not appreciate the trouble maker rocking the boat by standing up and making himself or herself noticed.
So when I say I've been lonely too long, I mean I'm tired of hiding my brain under some hat that defines me as a member of a group. I'm a member of the human race, the intelligent, loving, thinking, feeling human race. And I happen to live in Alabama. I like it here. I wish I could say it liked me all that well. The problem, I realize, isn't that I've been wearing a hat, but that I've been wearing the wrong hat.
I'm a writer. An artist. And I speak for those who can't see what I see. I have a right to speak but I have no income to speak of and so my voice is not easily heard. I am fortunate that at the moment I have a place to live, a computer and am about to get foodstamps and social security. I think you will be hearing from me more often. It's your choice as to whether you comment, but you can let me know if you like what I have to say.