Sunday, February 27, 2005

Mark Kozelek, Compassion and Intimate Strangers

So AJ and I take the B train to Grand Street and begin walking, hoping to find Delancey and the Bowery Ballroom. We are lost in Chinatown, and we seem to be the only white people around, which is always a good experience for white people. I like it. We ask for directions, but nobody seems to speak English. We have no instinct for which direction to head, which must be genetic. Just as I warm to the idea of wandering around lost in Chinatown indefinitely, a woman points us in the right direction. Only two blocks away.

I have already decided that I won't be disappointed if we can't get into the Mark Kozelek concert because there is a good chance that the fake ID for which AJ just spent $40 at a deli in the village won't work. The ID is hilarious. It is a "level C non-govermental legal ID", which means that she gave a "truth pledge" that the information on it is correct. It is almost as bad as the time in high school when she and a girlfriend tried to buy beer at a party store with a Hollister card. But she got in, which again reminds me of how much I love NYC. I am also reminded of how the crazy moralizing of midwest parents drives kids onto the back roads with cases of beer.

Mark Kozelek seems tired or down, or just not right. He has been waiting around all day to get into his hotel room and he says he's just not feeling it. He mentions how hard touring is, and at one point he stops playing and says something like, "I don't know, guys. I need some loving." The crowd goes wild with applause and encouragement. Some people keep calling out songs for him to play and once he yells, "SHUT UP!" AJ and I look at each other and smile. I love that we are here when he is revealing this particular aspect of himself on this particular night. I am reminded of Georgia, who said once when I was being critical of someone, "People don't need to be pleasant or nice for me to like them."

I read an interview where Kozelek said that he just wants to make enough money so his band can have health insurance (that is very paraphrased) and it made me think that he probably feels like a trained monkey while touring, playing the same songs over and over, trying to maintain his sense of himself while meeting fans' expectations. I loved hearing him live, I liked his crankiness, and if I were rich I would be his art patron. For sure. And I would buy a big apartment building in NYC and support artists. (Cookie, AJ and I decided you would have a room, anytime you wanted.)

Today on my ride to the airport I heard an interview with Studs Terkel talking about his book Will the Circle Be Unbroken: Reflections on Death, Rebirth, and Hunger for a Faith, which is a collection of oral histories from people, some well-known and some not-so-known, about attitudes toward death in the US. Some of these people he calls "intimate strangers", a term I have borrowed to use for those I have contact with in this blogosphere, this place I am continually trying to make some sense of. There is no doubt that I have been touched by strangers here, and I wonder what to make of it.

Isn't it funny that we are all here in this place at the same time, coming around at uncannily appropriate times with a needed comment, a post that inspires, an intensity and self-disclosure that is refreshing and endearing? Nobody puts herself out there, so buoyant and lively, yet vulnerable, as does Melina. And I will keep an eye out for Cookie on April 18, 19 and 20. There are others, too. I have been wooed, wowed and filled with wonderment here.

Are we doing all we want to do in this life? Are we taking care of the people who are important to us? What the next life brings we don't know, says Terkel. What is important is what we choose to do in this life.

My mind again goes to Mark Kozelek, his gift, his struggle and the toil of all humans. We all are trying to get through this life the best we can. Most of the time we can drive death out of our consciousness. But it will come for each of us, the only mystery is "when"? In this life I hope I can learn compassion, that I can be a good friend. I hope I can be one of the "crazy" people Terkel speaks of...those who put their lives on the line to make the world better...those with compassion enough.

2 Comments:

At 7:26 PM, Blogger Melina said...

I like the term intimate strangers. And I too, often wonder why I write what I write and why I blog in general. Am I just an exhibitionist? I don't really think so. I think to some extent yes, but if you notice I don't go into graphic details, just facts, dialogue and my feelings. Will people call me a slut? Sure. Will I care? Maybe for a few stingy seconds but then I'll be fine because ultimately I live with my choices. So why do I do this and why do I love getting comments and feedback about my life? I think because I like to explore the moments of my life. No one says I make the right decisions or I handle myself appropriately at any given time but it's my life that I'm documenting and it's nice to get candid responses that you wouldn't typically get if you were just talking to someone. (sorry for the book!)

 
At 8:01 PM, Blogger MJ said...

Don't court jesters always reveal the deepest truths? I am glad you don't always make the "right" decisions or handle yourself "appropriately".

And best of all, you're continually self-examining. You don't seem exhibitionistic or a "slut". (What the hell is that, anyway? Only assholes would think that. (Moe says you have to assume that every man is an asshole until proven otherwise.) Your writing doesn't turn around to bite you, maybe because it has vulnerability and intelligence.

 

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