You Ought To Write The Queen

Got an idea I am trying to flesh out based upon a fragment of sound and image I saw in my head that I think might come one of these Mad World videos.

That is, the Tears for Fears original and the Gary Jules cover.

Not quite sure what it is I am trying to pull out, but I know it is something that is sitting at the back of my mind and that it keeps floating up in my dreams so I pursue answers because it is what I do.

Somewhere in the midst of my search for answers I hear a voice say “you ought to write the queen.”

Nod my head and answer, “I have written 10,000 letters and asked for answers in 10,000 ways.”

The voice doesn’t answer but I figure whatever magic is in the year will take my words to the queen and that I’ll be granted an audience.

If that doesn’t work, well I’ll make like Joshua and circle the town walls blowing my shofar until the walls come tumbling down.

And if that doesn’t work I’ll roll up my sleeves and use brute strength to make those walls submit because destiny calls and the time to answer has come or so I have been told.

I Hurt & I Ache

The same young trainer that asks me if I want him to train me came to see me today. He can’t ever remember we have had this conversation and asks me if I have used my free session.

I nod and say I have, waiting for him to pitch me on his services one more time.

Later on I catch his eye in the mirror while swinging dumbbells in either arm.

“Is 40 pounds good or should I be working with 50?”

He doesn’t catch the sarcasm and part of me feels badly for ambushing him with the question because that is what it is, an ambush.

He is unlikely to give me an answer I think is appropriate.

After a few months of being back in a gym muscle memory is making it easier to go with weights that earn the appreciation of a younger man but only if he has no clue what my goals are.

Later on I’ll look upon that moment and remind myself there is a reason why I hurt and ache. It is my choice and my actions.

Later when he asks me what I think I’ll ask him if he knows the song above and if he can answer the question.

“What won’t Meatloaf do for love?”

He says he doesn’t know and I share some lyrics and say I can apply it to working out.

“This could be about someone else but you could say it is a song about saving yourself.

Some days it don’t come easy
Some days it don’t come hard
Some days it don’t come at all
And these are the days that never end
… Some nights you’re breathing fire
Some nights you’re carved in ice
Some nights you’re like nothing I’ve ever
Seen before or will again
… Maybe I’m crazy, but it’s crazy and it’s true
I know you can save me, no-one else can save me now but you

I don’t tell him that I have a memory of discussing this thing on a blog post somewhere long ago. Nor do I remember where, but if I can figure it out I’ll add it to this post.

Before I leave I tell him to go listen to Bat Out Of Hell and say if you don’t listen to music that makes you dream and think of a parade of images you are missing out.

“You want to know how a guy pushing 54 shows up daily it is because I can turn on a few different songs that help me push through the million distractions that keep me from not showing up.

Got to hit the highway like a battering ram.”

Epilogue

My oldest nephew flew into town for a work function. He and the younger Mr. Wilner jumped in the car with me and we took a quick ride around town.

We talked about career plans, current employment and future dreams.

For a moment I swear I saw them sitting in car seats talking about Thomas the Tank Engine and not about how they feel older because younger sister/cousin just turned 21.

I blinked and they were young twenty somethings and I was the Father/Uncle telling a few stories they hadn’t heard about their grandfather and great-grandfathers.

Maybe that conversation is what got me thinking about whatever is sitting in the back of my mind or maybe it was something else.

Took the nephew out to Fort Worth for his program and talked some more and then turned around to come back, even without traffic it was still almost an hour each way.

Time well spent even if I could hear my internal clock tick tocking away. It was time well spent but damn if it didn’t remind me again how fast the seasons turn.