who is looking for a heartbeat among the ashes?
We were out last night, doing various and sundry things (a lot of merry music geeking); we came home, and there was a message on the voicemail, which Soren didn't pick up.
I got up, after a restless night (I'm having dinner with Mark alone tonight, before taking him over to Barbes for a birthday drink, and I am somehow uneasy about his request to have dinner be just the two of us), did four morning pages, then came over to the computer (yes, we still have a modem, not DSL or a cable modem) and got ready to sign on. That stuttering dial tone that indicates "You've got a message or two or seventeen" came through, so I stopped and checked it.
It was Peabrain.
"Hi, hi, hi, it's Peabrain. I was wondering if Velma had an address for Dean Friedman....."
So.
Peabrain has called.
The information he wants could be easily acquired. deanfriedman.com exists; googling puts it at the top of the lists.
So.... my conclusion is that this is a ploy to get back in touch with me. This is his first attempt at contact with me since I sent the letter in mid-July.
Analysis: it's an interesting ploy. He knows that I am helpful, almost involuntarily, when it comes to networking and contacting people. He knows that I would like to see Dean have more fame and recognition of his work. He also knows that my weakness is that I always believe that if I can find the right words, I can explain to someone who's hurt me what they've done, in such a way that they'll understand, and not do it again.
But the whole point of the letter was to end that cycle, because no explanation was ever sufficient for Peabrain. My actions could wound him (like not trusting him to get anywhere on time), and I was responsible for them -- but I was also responsible for my emotional reactions, and his actions had no effect. (Since there was always a reason he was late, like oversleeping, and he would occasionally say, "I'm sorry," I wasn't allowed to be mad, or hold it against him. And the fact that this happened only nine times out of ten meant that I could never say, "You're always late; I can't rely on you." After all, every once in a while, he'd be on time, or I'd be late.....)
One part of me thinks that I should call him at 5 am, with the information; the wiser part of my brain (poopface!) is advising that I not contact him at all. Soren agrees with the second option. (It's after five now, anyway.)
Earlier this week, The Oyster Band was going around my friends list; today, it's love, and past relationships. There seem to be cycles.
I am now uneasy about the day, but I'll get through it.
I got up, after a restless night (I'm having dinner with Mark alone tonight, before taking him over to Barbes for a birthday drink, and I am somehow uneasy about his request to have dinner be just the two of us), did four morning pages, then came over to the computer (yes, we still have a modem, not DSL or a cable modem) and got ready to sign on. That stuttering dial tone that indicates "You've got a message or two or seventeen" came through, so I stopped and checked it.
It was Peabrain.
"Hi, hi, hi, it's Peabrain. I was wondering if Velma had an address for Dean Friedman....."
Back story: Dean Friedman -- singer-songwriter. Best known for a moderate 70's pop hit called "Ariel" (Way on the other side of the Hudson/deep in the bosom of suburbia/I met a young girl/She sang mighty fine/Tears On My Pillow and Ave Maria) with a falsetto chorus that was either lovely or bound to get right up your nose and annoy you. While that was his hit, he wrote a number of excellent songs, had label trouble, vanished for a while, came back, and has been independently producing his own music for the past decade and a half, at least.
I was a big fan of his, and introduced Peabrain to his music (and Mark, but Peabrain took to it more strongly). When Peabrain chaired one of the local conventions, in 1994 or so, he had Dean as a special musical guest. Afterwards, though, I was the one who stayed in contact with Dean, staying on his mailing list, occasionally emailing him, going to his shows.
End back story.
So.
Peabrain has called.
The information he wants could be easily acquired. deanfriedman.com exists; googling puts it at the top of the lists.
So.... my conclusion is that this is a ploy to get back in touch with me. This is his first attempt at contact with me since I sent the letter in mid-July.
Analysis: it's an interesting ploy. He knows that I am helpful, almost involuntarily, when it comes to networking and contacting people. He knows that I would like to see Dean have more fame and recognition of his work. He also knows that my weakness is that I always believe that if I can find the right words, I can explain to someone who's hurt me what they've done, in such a way that they'll understand, and not do it again.
But the whole point of the letter was to end that cycle, because no explanation was ever sufficient for Peabrain. My actions could wound him (like not trusting him to get anywhere on time), and I was responsible for them -- but I was also responsible for my emotional reactions, and his actions had no effect. (Since there was always a reason he was late, like oversleeping, and he would occasionally say, "I'm sorry," I wasn't allowed to be mad, or hold it against him. And the fact that this happened only nine times out of ten meant that I could never say, "You're always late; I can't rely on you." After all, every once in a while, he'd be on time, or I'd be late.....)
One part of me thinks that I should call him at 5 am, with the information; the wiser part of my brain (poopface!) is advising that I not contact him at all. Soren agrees with the second option. (It's after five now, anyway.)
Earlier this week, The Oyster Band was going around my friends list; today, it's love, and past relationships. There seem to be cycles.
I am now uneasy about the day, but I'll get through it.