The Fat Lady Sings

Hell

Sorry to have been absent for so long.  My health has taken a downward turn, I'm afraid.  The chronic pain I deal with has inexplicably become much, much worse.  Tightening up the diagnoses has been a bitch.  I refuse to go in for more invasive procedures.  I wake up during surgery, you see - right the fuck up.  Imagine being trapped in your body while some surgeon digs away inside you.  The pain.  The terror.  Well it's happened to me a number of times.  I tell the anesthetist - they don't believe me - and wham!  There I am staring up at them, praying like hell they'll put me under again.  Not everyone has.  One surgeon actually said. "I don't believe it.  She can't have any more anesthesia.  Just keep her still till I'm finished."  I suffered for 45 minutes.  It’s a wonder I didn’t lose my mind.  I came out of recovery screaming.

So you see - I don't want to ever go under the knife again.  I've asked for MRI's and CT scans injstead - but my primary doctor is having trouble lining it all up.  Seems my insurance wants to pay for the surgical diagnoses rather than the high tech kind.  So I wait - I have pain – and I worry something is very wrong.  It's been so bad I cannot really write - so thank you, Jude for permission to post this.  You are a jewel!

(Courtesy of Jude from Showers and Sunflowers)

HELL EXPLAINED BY CHEMISTRY STUDENT

The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid-term.

The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well :

Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant.

One student, however, wrote the following:

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.

This gives two possibilities:

1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.

2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it?

If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, "It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you," and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct.... leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh my God."

THIS STUDENT RECEIVED THE ONLY "A"

Spooky

This song has strange connotations for me.  I first heard it whilst driving with an old boyfriend (on 8-Track – doesn’t that date me!).  He was fanatical about Dusty and her music.  He even preferred her version to the original Classics IV.  In point of fact; I'd say he was fanatical about many things - me included.  I liked the Classics IV version best – though after hearing both more than a hundred times, the song itself began to creep me out.  Maybe it was my boyfriend.  I thought the song apropos of who he was on many levels (none of them positive, sorry to say).  That man was possibly the biggest relationship mistake of my life – and that’s saying something.  More than twice my age – he seemed mired within his generation – Dusty’s generation.  Now I realize it’s not the song.  The song I actually like. It’s the memory it invokes I’m ambivalent about.

Music underlines my entire life.  Every thought, every emotion is tied to a particular song or style of music.  Its music I run to when my life comes apart – when I need something more than a hand up or a pat on the back.  I sing when confronted by beauty – greeting the dawn, or welcoming a harvest moon.  I used to sing for my supper, way back when – in a tiny club called ‘The City Dump’ just outside San Francisco.  Sad songs – Dusty songs.  I lied about my age, stuck up an old mayonnaise jar for tips, and persuaded the house pianist to accompany me.  Smoky nights after rehearsal or a show….It was school money – and I’d rather sing than wait tables.  I wore a black halter crepe dress, stuck my hair up like Betty Grable and sang till they closed the place.   

I never sang ‘Spooky’ though.  That old beau used to haunt me – and I didn’t want him thinking I missed him.  Nowadays that’s called ‘stalking’ – back then it was something your male friends ‘took care of’ for you.   I wish I had some old recordings.  I was damn good – good enough to garner attention.  Unfortunately, attention came with strings.  Still does, from what I hear.  And I refused to trade anything for success.   So I never made it past smoky clubs reeking of spilled whiskey and old sex.  I still sing – when I’m alone.  Damaged vocal chords aren’t as nimble as they once were – but the joy of it remains.  I imagine Dusty felt the same.  Did she sing for herself, I wonder?  I understand she didn’t like singing.  I can’t imagine that.  Music feeds my soul.  Had I my druthers, I would crank the stereo so fuckin’ loud the whole house would vibrate.  I like to feel the rhythm inside my chest.  Then I sing.  I guess you’d call that a bit spooky.     

Truly A Man For All Seasons

One of the greatest actors ever to grace stage or screen has died.  Paul Scofield will be best remembered for his defining role as Sir Thomas More in 'A Man for All Seasons'.  There is a speech More gives about god and the law.  I think it rings truer today than when it was written:

And when the last law was down, and the Devil turned on you...where would you hide, Roper, the laws all being flat?  This country is planted thick with laws from coast to coast…Man's laws, not God's, and if you cut them down....and you're just the man to do it....do you really think you could stand upright in the wind that would blow then?  Yes. I give the Devil benefit of law for my own safety's sake.

Sometimes I Miss My Mother

Well, that’s not exactly true.  It’s more the concept of a mother that I miss – not that I really have a handle on what that is, exactly; never having had a functioning model to pull from.  Yesterday I watched a program featuring teasing exchanges between adult siblings.  I realized I had no idea how that felt – to speak to a family member without rancor; no underlying hatreds or agenda - no hysteria, violence or tears.  It was strange.  Of all the relatable human experiences – family life should be a constant.  That’s why silent movies were so universal.  The language of pattern and form: smiles, tears, warmth, laughter.  A woman appears; next to her stands a child.  The image resonates, we all know what that is, what it signifies – only I don’t.  There is no warm rush of emotion, no opening of the heart.  I am lost – at sea: alien.

The Marriage-Go-Round

I wrote this last year as part of The Blog Exchange.  The topic was change - something we all pay lip service to (especially on New Years) - but rarely consider past all the champagne and confetti.  2008 will be a year of massive change, I’m thinking – on many levels.  Life can be quite a roller-coaster – both the public and the private.  Thoughtful consideration needs to go into both aspects if our society is to move forward.  Though this post focuses on the private; the process remains constant no matter what subject comes under the microscope.

I wish people would give some thought about what it really means to stand by someone for 40 or 50 years.  You know - after all the romance and ‘aren’t you cute’s’ have gone the way of the Dodo.  ‘For better or worse’ isn’t just an outdated bromide like that ‘obey’ bullshit; and it means much more than not bailing during catastrophic injury or illness.  It means being there to help and support.  It means not blaming them for whatever accident or illness has crippled their body – and offering comfort when that body is wracked by pain or disease.  Perhaps most importantly – it means not adding to that pain through repetitive emotional abuse.  You do not look at your spouse and say “You’re no fun anymore” or flinch away - repulsed because they need a hug or some other physical reminder that they yet retain their humanity.  When they already feel bad because they cannot attend that concert or go on that wished for vacation because of surgery or pain, you do not compound their misery with selfish displays of disgust and regret.  Marriage isn’t a euphemism – it’s a reality - and that reality can sometimes chafe and burn.  Love is supposed to circumvent all that.  Don’t they say it conquers all?

Allow me to get personal for a moment.  Before I married my husband, yet while we were living with one another, he was diagnosed with a brain tumor.  The thing was exceptionally large (about the size of a soda can) and if not removed would definitely kill him within six months.  Time became compressed.  Important decisions had to be made lightening quick – where to have the surgery (as surgery was our only option), how to pay for it all (insurance left us liable for 20%) – and most importantly (from my point of view) whether or not to hang around for what could be a challenging aftermath.  Yes – I really thought about it.  His doctors were crystal clear in their assessment.  Should he survive the surgery (which lasted 12 of the longest hours of my life) he might be left blind, deaf or paralyzed.  That’s one hell of a lot to handle when you’re barely 30 years of age.  So I thought – can I manage this?  More importantly – do I want to?  Have I the strength to make such a decision?  Because once made there would be no going back.  It was all or nothing – I stay, or I go; no third road option.  Obviously I stayed – but that’s not my point.  My point is I seriously considered every angle.  It was more than ‘do I love this man’; it was ‘do I have the physical and emotional strength to cope with what could be a lifetime of struggle’?  My answer was yes.  Now – the surgery was a success (thank god) – and outside of some facial paralysis and his being deaf in one ear there were no lasting physical effects.  Personality wise – now that’s something different altogether.  No one said he’d become a different person.  I was totally unprepared for that.  But I made my decision.  I married him, I loved him, I cared for him – 20 years now and counting.  But not everybody really thinks of these things – of the changes that can happen at a moments notice. 

Side-stepping the realities of life are not the sole province of the young, either.  Grown-ups do it too.  Even for those certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that they had duly considered all vicissitudes – life can suddenly rear up and bite them squarely in the ass.  And there they are – relying on that ‘for better or worse’ clause in the marriage certificate.  Abruptly they discover that clause to be non-binding; that their spouse may have considered ‘for better or worse’ as only relating specifically to them.  You’d think the opposite would be true – but it’s not.  Whatever the reason – one spouse suddenly finds themselves in a place they don’t particularly want to be.  But leaving someone because of accident or illness is really frowned upon societally speaking.  The person doing the leaving is looked down on as morally bankrupt.  So people stay.  They stay somewhere they do not want to be.  And it makes them angry – they are stuck, now, you see – no exit.  And whether they intend to or not – that anger and frustration gets taken out on their spouse.  Why get married in the first place, you ask?  Well (and this rings especially true for men) - because it was fun.  They had met someone with whom they always had a good time - and they anticipated that good time lasting forever – uncluttered and unsullied by either age or infirmity.  Suddenly bam!  Paralysis or cancer.  Pain and doctors bills.  That carefree, ‘you and me against the world’ relationship has changed – irrevocably.  The same thing often happens with the birth or death of a child.  Whatever the reason – one spouse withdraws – leaving the other to handle the situation in virtual isolation.

I’m not really assigning blame here.  Some people are just wholly unsuited to heavy physical or emotional responsibility; something they cannot admit, even to themselves.  Perhaps they looked upon marriage as being taken care of - spouse as substitute parent.  It may never have occurred to them that they might be the ones having to administer that care – and it leaves them as angry as a child being denied a wished-for toy.  Though they might not give breath to the words, “I resent you!” – the sentiment nevertheless runs underneath everything they say and do.  Now imagine how all this feels when you are on the receiving end.  It hurts.  It hurts, it de-humanizes, it crush’s the very soul.  Rejection by a spouse is bad enough in the best of circumstances - when you’re fighting trench war on a physical level it can be devastating. 

Many people would consider divorce at this point.  In my opinion - divorce effectually leaves the unaffected spouse off the hook.  Not that that spouse can really be the one to suggest it without seeming to desert their marriage at a critical point.  Now here’s where it all gets a bit sticky.  If they can push the other into suggesting it – say, nag or belittle them into fleeing for sanity’s sake…..well; best of both worlds.  Social taboos regarding abandonment have not been violated - and most importantly - they become separated from that which they wished to avoid in the first place: a sick or deteriorating spouse.  Poof!  Responsibility all gone.  Any imperative to stay till the bitter end has been resolved.  It now becomes the sick spouse’s sole responsibility to provide for their own care and comfort.  The additional pain and suffering this causes the affected partner is dismissed under a cloud of denial.  “It wasn’t my fault” or “I’m not the one who asked for a divorce”.  Whatever the excuse – the reality is: someone desperately trying to process massive physical, mental and emotional changes is now expected to handle all that, along with the logistical and practical end, without a net.

So think very, very carefully before saying ‘I do’.  Look long and hard at the person standing beside you.  Will they still be standing there were you in a wheelchair?  Would you do the same for them?  I think Paul McCartney said it best – which is sad, in a way, considering his own current failure on this account: “Will you still need me, will you still feed me when I’m 64?”  Though I must say - he never left his first wife’s side while she was dying.  He really did mean ‘for better or for worse’ when he took those vows, his lovely wife Linda holding a white kitten for her bouquet.  Theirs was an enduring marriage between two people who truly loved and respected one another.  His current wife bailed at the first sign of trouble.  Seems she didn’t want to be married to an ‘old man’; just to his money.  That says a great deal about her character – don’t you think?  And character is the key, here.  So if you’re only pulling a Brittany Spears – don’t bother.  Trust me when I say your prospective spouse would be much better off without you in the long run. 

Just Because

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Simon's Cat

This guy obviously knows Inky.  Animation by the great Simon Tofield of Tandem Films.

More Sad News

Patrick Swayze has been diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer.  "Dirty Dancing" was filmed in North Carolina.  I knew some of the actors who worked with him on that film.  They said he was a delight.  That's not always the case, you know.  I could tell you tales that make what TMZ reports sound like cotton candy.  But not Swayze.  He was kind, generous and a very hard worker - in that film at least.

He and his family are in my prayers.

Gary Gygax Dead at 69

An old friend of mine has passed away. I met Gary Gygax in the mid 70’s at an SCA event. Needless to say, D&D was very popular amongst Anachronists.  I was introduced to the game while watching Gary play with some friends of mine. Introductions were made.  I thought he was very nice.  I didn’t know him well – just enough to say hi to whenever we ran into one another. I had no idea he was that much older than me. But then all the men wore their hair long and had beards - and all the woman looked like 60's refugees - flowing hair, billowly skirts.  Who knew how old any of us were?

You know - I have all my original D&D books, figures and dungeon maps.  My most popular character was borrowed from a good friend – the great and powerful wizard Usnavy (yes, my friend was in the Navy).  Shout out to you, Riknard.  Do you remember Gary?  He was at that tourney where women competed for the first time – and later at the Ren Faire outside of San Francisco.  You could usually find him at Poul Anderson's pavillion. 

Ah well.  Time passes so quickly.  I just cannot believe he is dead.  Rest in peace, my friend.  You are remembered.

Who’s Your Dreamgirl Now?

I just finished watching the film version of “Dreamgirls” for the first time.  All I can say is – I know EXACTLY how Effie White felt.

The perfect Jennifer Holliday singing “And I’m Telling You”

But just like Effie – y’all stand back, ‘cause it’s MY turn to win now!