“Would you like to
swing on a star?
Carry moonbeams home
in a jar?
And be better off
than you are?
Or would you rather
be a mule?”
The ability
to learn is the most important part of being human. It is inherent, built into
our framework. If you do not learn, you are destined to repeat. For those who wallow
in their own crapulence, life does the same. The reality is that the process of
life is nothing more than a learning curve, and then you die. If there wasn’t
teaching, and studying, and recognition, there would be no growth, no change
and no evolution. Life would be static and seemingly unmoveable. Some people
are born limited. They struggle with their own ignorance regardless of how many
years of education any one person might have acquired. Higher learning requires
one to actually learn. Some people remain as simple as a woodchuck. An education
does not automatically negate the lasting effects on those stupefied by the
very act of their genetics. You cannot be a little bit pregnant. Sometimes it
comes right down to stupid is as stupid does. I should polish up my political
correctness. I could choose my words with moderation. This would not take away
from the fact that some people just don’t have a clue.
“A mule is an animal
with long, funny ears
He kicks up at
anything he hears
His back is brawny
and his brain is weak
He’s just plain
stupid with a stubborn streak
And, by the way, if
you hate to go to school
You may grow up to be
a mule”
He was
stunning and I appreciated that. While I was security on one side, he was
bartender on the other. We became friends, at least in a casual sense. He sure
was pretty. His solid muscular body, his very handsome face and his general
demeanour made him the star attraction in many a gay man’s night. Management
was right to put him behind the bar. Sex sells, after all. The entire package
of him was what another co-worker called rather “yummy.” I agreed with her
completely. Good always comes with the not so good. There is always a price to
pay. James was dumber than a tree knot. We had to explain to him how ice was
made. He could mix drinks for 10 people, all at the same time, but he couldn’t
manage to put his shoes on the right feet. I am unsure if James was aware of
his limitations. He struck me as the sort of man who didn’t stop to do anything
but brush his teeth. He was shallow and I am sure not only because he was vain.
It was like talking to an empty vessel. He was 26, at the time, and he somehow
managed to get through a quarter century of existence. You would think that
journey might have rubbed off on him. In the end, he was a dull light bulb
ready to be changed. He only lasted a few months then the exhibit closed for
good. He was gone but so was his beauty. He didn’t leave because he found
another job. He didn’t leave to improve himself with an education or training
in an apprenticeship. James, an innocent child it seems, left because he was
afraid that by working in a gay bar, the gay would rub off on him. I asked him
when he shared his fate, “Aren’t you gay?” He replied from outer space, from his
otherland.
“Or would you like to
swing on a star?
Carry moonbeams home
in a jar?
And be better off
than you are?
Or would you rather
be a pig?
A pig is an animal
with dirt on his face
His shoes are a terrible
disgrace
He’s got no manners
when he eats his food
He’s fat and lazy and
extremely rude
But if you don’t care
a feather or a fig
You may grow up to be
a pig”
Without
some semblance of decorum, we are nothing but animals. Tell that to my late friend Tammy. She died a
few years ago yet somehow the odour remains. She was a hoarder, and a rather
dirty one at that. For the 20 years that I knew her, I rarely ever went over to
her place. She was embarrassed, humiliated and yet did nothing to rectify the situation.
Her home was a pigsty. I have known several other hoarders, including a family
member, and their chaos was nothing compared to Tammy’s. It wasn’t just too
much furniture, too much stuff. Garbage and filth were everywhere. It got worse
every time I climbed over what used to be her living room. At least she didn’t
seem to collect her own feces or urine, although I could never be sure what
laid under all those piles of debris. I am not sure why I never said anything
to her about her quality of living. I suppose, in a clear sense, I was just as
embarrassed for her as she was for herself. It was heartbreaking to venture
into her world. I never knew what might crawl out of the piles of trash that
literally littered the place. At one visit, I thought the floor was moving but
it was only a combination of ants and roaches that tricked my senses. The
longer her rampage went on, the harder it was to breathe in her place. I
suppose the black mould on almost every wall was the culprit. Eventually, any
invitation I had to return to the scene met with distance and excuses and
disinterest. I still cared for my friend but I could not just keep going,
condoning her behaviour and her lifestyle. She definitely needed the help I
could not give. Even if she had a mental condition that caused the behaviour,
she had other options besides ruminating in her own mess. She had no shame, no
sense of pride. I’m not sure if this detachment was the problem or if she was.
All I know is that her death was just as messy as her life had been. Her body,
like her kitchen floor, filled with foreign invaders. Cancer still grows in a
crowded house.
“Or would you like to
swing on a star?
Carry moonbeams home
in a jar?
And be better off
than you are?
Or would you rather
be a fish?
A fish won’t do
anything but swim in a brook
He can’t write his
name or read a book
To fool all the
people is his only thought
Though he’s slippery,
he still gets caught
But then if that sort
of life is what you wish
You may grow up to be
a fish
A new kind of jumped-up
slippery fish”
Every word
out of his mouth was a complete fabrication. He was a falsehood, even to
himself. Throughout the last decade I knew him, he managed to create one drama
after another. Always trying, it seemed, to weave something out of nothing. I
never really understood to what end. I had no idea why a person would need to
do that. Any deduction I made was irrelevant. I could not believe a word that
came out of his mouth. One day he had a disease and the next he was getting
married. He won money then lost it the very same day. Someone got hurt. Someone
always got hurt. Every day of contact with him seemed riddled with bullshit.
This happened or that happened, all the while his claims of suffering fell upon
deaf ears. I have lost contact with him over the years. The truth is, it was a
conscious choice not to continue to associate with him. There can be no relationship
without trust. I do not trust him, not in the least. Everybody lies. It matters
little whether you care to admit just that, we all do it. There is something to
be said for moderation. My old friend did not seem to understand the simplicity
of the term. When people believe you are a liar, it doesn’t matter what you say or what you do, there will always be
that absence. I remember one incident, while I was still in contact with him, when
he claimed to have had surgery. Of course, it was quite serious but he managed
to get home at the end of that day. There were no scars, no bandages, no
anything but a million excuses and a million more reasons. It’s hard to have
faith in someone who doesn’t seem to understand the meaning of truth and
honesty. At least, I try not to make it a personal priority to fill the air
with nothing but prevarications. I’m not above a good lie here and there, but
when it’s all you give, it’s all you get.
“And all the monkeys
aren’t in a zoo
Every day you meet
quite a few
So you see, it’s all
up to you
You can be better
than you are
You could be swingin’
on a star”
(Swinging On A Star, Bing Crosby 1944)
I don’t
believe in fate or serendipity. God’s Will is all good and well but I doubt
very much that the idea is anything more than just that. While I do not entertain
notions like destiny and “meant to be,” I do believe there are lessons
implanted throughout our lives, lessons we must learn or face repeating. This
is why learning is so very important for a person who wishes to move past their
own folly. If we don’t learn then we don’t move forward, we don’t evolve and we
become stagnant. Some people like to rummage around in their lives. Staying in
the same place is comfortable and easy. It takes no effort at all. You can
always do better. If you are stupid, study. If you are dirty, take a bath. If
no one believes you, try the truth. Regardless of our limitations, each one of
us has choices and those choices will dictate who we will turn out to be.
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