The Story Of My Fucking Life


Posted by ilbebe on January 2, 2012

I wrote an email to my old friend Garrett earlier today, and this is the text of that email:


Wanted to say thank you for the encouragement on the writing, just knowing that people are reading means everything. Writing is so solitary, ya know, no one applauds after I post to my blog. So any and all feedback is treasured, and again, thanks for the kind words.

Please be advised, I am going to use some of the content of this email in a future blog post, but please don’t think I’m being lazy, or feel that the double-usage cheapens my message to you personally. Allow me to explain.

You have been involved in a strange number of “coincidences” in the past few days, which furthers my theory that “coincidence” is a rather primitive way of looking at these concurrences. Basically, the theory is that when you think of something, or someone, the energy you spend/spent thinking of that thing or person travels to them, and they become aware of it, whether consciously or otherwise, and thus it should be unsurprising that they or it then thinks of you shortly thereafter. The nature of energy in the world is that it accumulates, and that the more aware you are of your ability to merely perceive it amplifies your ability to absorb and redirect any energy you encounter, to the point where it may seem that you are “generating” energy. You are not, you are simply acting as a transistor for more energy than the average cat, since you are thinking of so many other people and things, and in kind, so many people and things are thinking of you. And this cycle grows and grows- as the Immortal Lee County Killers slogan reads, in part: “NO RESTRICTOR PLATES–DON’T TREAD ON ME”.

First I sent out a bulk email letting you know I was writing again. A few weeks later, and four days ago now, you sent me an email letting me know that h.e.r. had been recognized as a local favorite by someone you greatly respect. In a congratulatory email to you, I wished you well, and a happy new year. In response to that, you told me you had been reading the new writing, and encouraged me to keep going.

About an hour before I read that email from you, I put on a shirt you bought for me in El Paso, Texas about nine years ago. It’s one of my favorites, a Billy Joel River of Dreams tour t-shirt from 1993. “In the middle of the night…” Last night I was able to fall asleep soundly without being drunk for the first time in weeks because I reassured myself that I didn’t need to stay awake thinking if I was confident in my ability to recall and interpret my dreams. As I fell asleep, I thought of the ‘Dream Police’ app you joked about building several years ago. Then I awoke and the next shirt in my closet line-up was one you gave me with a picture of a man I admire standing in a river of dreams. Thus it was unsurprising when I found the email you had written me in my inbox, and similarly unsurprising when my iTunes started playing the h.e.r. stream automatically when the songs I’d selected ended. Quasi’s ‘Drunken Tears’ segued into some wonderful soul disco played by a DJ named Agnes Fidget, what a sweet shift. That was an hour ago now.

On Saturday afternoon Bethany came to Oakland to pick me up and continue into SF to go to Jenny’s NYE party. At some point during that day, I spoke to her of my pal Noodle, who used to employ me as a mover, and is also a superb musician who plays in a solo act called the Electric Noodle. Telling Bethany about Noodle made me realize “Damn, I haven’t called that guy in more than a year. Oughta call him”. Then Sunday afternoon as me and Bethany were heading back to Oakland, we got behind a van with a the Electric Noodle sticker on the back. It must be Noodle, I thought, so I pulled up alongside and got his attention as we exited the freeway at the same exit, which I was fairly certain he was about to do. We pulled over to the side of the road, and I got out of my (well, Bethany’s) car and walked up to Noodle’s window and said Hey Man, How Ya Been!

Good, he said, Getting Out Of The Moving Biz And Movin’ Myself Up To Mendocino. The Electric Noodle’s Really Catching On Up There.

I said Well I Won’t Keep You Then. Happy New Year, And Good Luck!

Amazing, no?

Here’s another example, if you can stand one more.

For more than a month I had had a fraction of a song buzzing around in my mind, and though I could not identify it, I was sure that I needed to find it, because it represented the Sound of True Love. For more than a month I had listened to the same small snippet I had of it in my mind and grew frustrated with my inability to recall what it was. It was so good! I wanted to hear the rest! I wanted to be able to share it with people!

One night last week the culmination of an intense period of reflection and self-discovery which roughly paralleled the time this song had been bouncing around my head resulted in the most honest talk my girlfriend B and I had yet had. We agreed that work was needed on our relationship, and we knew what that work was, and that we were going to do it, sooner rather than later. We parted ways that night, and I slept soundly.

I awoke the following morning and my first thought was “Spoon! Towards the end of the mix Jenny gave me last year”. I found the CD and took it to the front room, where only two weeks earlier a roommate had bought and installed a CD-playing sound system, something our common space had been lacking for almost the entire year. I skipped through the tracks until I found it, the sound of True Love. Anything You Want.

“If there’s anything you want

Come on back cause it’s all still here”

Anything you want can be found, because it was never gone, you just stopped looking for it.

This experience led to me to be reassured that if you keep one ear to the ground and the other to everything above its surface, you will remain cognizant of what’s around you, and what’s important to you, and be able to wake up on the second of January and spend an hour writing a thoughtful letter to a dear old friend.

This is that letter, this is my testimony.

I love you.

Happy new year, and my fondest wishes for peace and health this year and beyond.

Say Hi to Amber for me! When’s the wedding? Am I invited? Lemme know.


3:37PM 1/2/2012, at home, kitchen table, coffee’s cashed.


4 Responses to “Sixty-four”

  1. I’ll be in the back room, sipping my half of a beer.

  2. ilbebe said

    Dude, two days in a row now I’ve gotten up and taken care of correspondence. It’s wonderful.

  3. lulukelly said

    I love you Landon…keep writing and I’ll keep reading!

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