Closet Extremist

Accidental Catalyst

So...I've been sitting here drinking. I only worked six hours today, and only two and a half hours of that was actually work, but hey. At least I got a few hours over yesterday to make up for the shortfall. I got home early enough to get the lawn mowed, and I'm pleased with that. I do enjoy mowing now that I've got a riding mower. It cut the task down to about an hour, as opposed to the three to four it used to take.

Yesterday evening when I got home, my roommate's signifigant other (J) told me that she'd raided my music stash (CD's) in order to rip some new music for the M'uh P'uh 3'uh playlist that we listen to on the back patio of an evening. She wanted to make sure that I didn't get upset when I went looking for one of my CD's and found it in the incorrect place. This was the right thing for her to do, as I am bound to get upset if I didn't know about it and extrapolated it later, but since she came right out and told me she was in my shit, it's fine.

One of the Cd's that she wanted to listen to was MeatLoaf's Bat Out of Hell. I think she cut the whole thing to PC format, as this evening's playlist was really heavy with it. (I won't waste Pixy's bandwidth on putiing up a song, but I trust you know who I'm talking about)

The Record in Question was released originally in 1977, and was something of a phenomena. Aparrently, it was a favorite of J's Mom, so it became a favorite of J's. It's also a favorite of mine, so ti worked out good that I had it...or not.

You see, J's Mom died when J was 12 years old. I don't know all the details of her passing, but you can imagine how this would effect an early teenage girl. This is the linchpin of her life. She carries it with her everywhere, and I think she sorta blames herself for what happenned. This is the event that permeates her life.

Tonight, as we are eating supper, she gradually became more and more despondent. It was clear that she was sliding into a state of depression, and for all my efforts, I was helpless to push her out of it. AS the playlist was running, she would periodically get up and change the song, and almost invariably the next tune would be from the album mentioned previously. The more she listened, the worse she got.

She was having a tete a tete conversation with my roommate, who can be a little thick sometimes, about calling this psychic that is currently seen on the Montel Williams daytime program. It seems that this lady has the ability to contact the "spirtit" of anyone who has shuffled off this mortal coil, and takes personal calls to do so from people who can pay the $700 fee for the service. J is really into this person about now, as there are cetain things that remind her of her Mom.

I made the mistake of stating that "these people are quacks" or some such in the presence of my roommate who decided to take things to the N'th degree, and badger her about it. After about a half an hour of listening to his shit, I decided that it was time for me to vacate the back porch and come on into my living room. My roommate obviously took to berating her for an idiot for being a fan of this medium, who could put her in touch with her Mother, and J became more and more upset.

There was a point in the evening when she came into my living room and asked me (With tears in her eyes) if it was okay after seventeen years to still miss her Momma. I said: "It never goes away sweetie. It never goes away."

I'm certainly more than understanding of her current condition, and I'm prepared to be a friend to her if she needs it. But I won't lie to her, and I hope that helped.

I can only hope that it wasn't my MeatLoaf CD that set off her current state of sadness. If it was, it wasn't on purpose.

Posted by Johnny - Oh at May 18, 2005 01:13 AM