Happy Birthday

to
greensh!

Llew

After not hearing from Llew since he called to let me know he'd made it to Pennsylvania, I caved and dialed his number today. It turns out that the day after he arrived in Pennsylvania, he collapsed and was hurried to the hospital and he's been there ever since. According to him, they haven't figured out what's wrong with him yet, but they have done a bunch of tests, including a stress test. I told him I'd call him back over the weekend to see how he's doing and I stressed to him to make his family take care of him after he gets out of the hospital.

I'm so fearful for him. I just have the foreboding feeling that he's gonna end up very sick, homeless, and without anyone to be there for him. And there's nothing I can do. Nothing at all. It's a horrible feeling to love someone who makes all the wrong choices and places himself in harm's way. It's like he has a death wish or no capacity for self preservation.

Death Pipe and "Heart of Gold"

That rule I made back in May was applied once again today. I opened one of the drink machines out in the warehouse and this huge, heavy pipe came tumbling down and almost beamed me in the head. I was a tad irritated by this, but Aunt Tudi is happy to have the death pipe. Dunno what she's gonna do with it. Perhaps she'll beam me in the head as was originally intended with this tube of scary metal.

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On our way to Wal-Mart for some necessary grocery supplies, Son of iGor played "Heart of Gold" by Neil Young. This is a special song for me, marking one of those moments that a person has in one's life. These moments add up and become a collection of important memories that created the personality others come to love or hate as age progresses. I first heard this song in 1978, lying in a small tent beside Mills River, listening to WISE on a tiny battery-powered AM radio. The song mingled with the chuckling melody of the river and held me in a hypnotic cradle of wonderment.

At 11, I was just discovering the rich world of "pop" music, having been introduced to WISE by my older cousin, Corbett, who was quite fond of KISS, Steve Miller, and a number of other 70s Classic Rock gods. I'd always loved music, but had pretty much ignored radio for the first 10 years of life. My musical exposure had been Classical Music (Strauss, Dvorak, Mozart, etc), the Beatles, and the Father Unit's collection of tunes (my favourite of his was the lovely "Carolina Mountains"). Like most kids, my "pop" music light bulb popped on in my pre-pubescent fog, and I began to really listen to songs' lyrics.

Such was the case with "Heart of Gold." I listened carefully to Neil Young's words through the AM static. They touched me like no other song had so far in my infant musical history.

I want to live,
I want to give
Ive been a miner for a heart of gold.
Its these expressions I never give
That keep me searching for a heart of gold
And I'm getting old.
Keeps me searching for a heart of gold
And I'm getting old.

I made a promise to myself that I would also be a miner for a heart of gold. Looking back on that sublime moment with the knowledge I now possess, I feel that this was an instant of magick occurring. Had I fully understood the meaning of the lyrics and realised the power of magickal work, even if spontaneous and unintentional. It seems that I have truly become a miner, searching for a heart of gold. And the rest of the lyrics have manifested as well, for I am now getting old as well. Rather sad, but I still adore the song and it marks a time in my life when I was truly happy and had a spark of optimism within me. Now if I can just find my way back to that innocence and awe. And Mills River. I'd give my right thigh bone to find Mills River again and camp out for at least a week. A tent, a fire, a wee patch of food, and Son of iGor since WISE is not the radio station it used to be. That'd be brilliant.