Fading Like a Flower (Every Time You Leave) - Roxette
Roxette was a Swedish rock duo, and I would call this a power ballad. The gentle opening lulls you into thinking this is something else, then the chorus rips. Honestly, I could listen to songs like this the rest of my life. It's the kind of stuff that made middle school palatable. It played off the exaggerated feelings of tweens and almosts, as sort of a warning and a riddle of emerging adulthood and its complexity. It's similar to the hyperbole I displayed on so many of these pages, as what is love, but a transcendent, superlative thing? And how do you describe something that is felt when you don't have the vocabulary? Music. Always through music.
This song describes the disappointment, frustration, and confusion of thwarted, unreciprocated feelings. There is more going on with this (possibly slave/handler), but let's just say it's about a young person's feelings for someone who sees them as ... invisible. Then it's about right. This is an unhealthy relationship. Once again, pop music doesn't show us love; it shows us an inversion — a corruption of love. (Who has been better at that inversion than Taylor Swift?) All songs are programs, and this program is codependence/anxious attachment/abandonment. But, hey, it rocks. I don't understand the line about "it's a cold, cold town," but maybe it's because y'all are Swedish? Sweden is pretty cold.
I find things to love in about every song. Bjork's Army of Me has a filthy bass line. New Slang's lyrics help conjure meaning out of your experiences. A singer's voice. A line here or there. Guitar solos are largely forgettable. (Bad Religion said solos are masturbatory, and I agree. They utilized them to give Graffin a chance to catch his breath.) But this song goes hard until the end. Most songs are forgotten after a few years. Like Eddie Money or The Cars, this band's songs are still going, though the singer is no longer with us. As with everything in life, if you want to experience something, there is no better time than at that moment. If you missed seeing a band you loved, that's on you. I saw the ones I wanted to see. And a few I didn't mean to see, like Pat Benatar and Squatweiler.
If you were feeling this song, what kind of hell would you be going through? Possibly the hell called middle school. High school, even, if you were a late bloomer. I knew girls were a mine field and put off getting my limbs blown off as long as I could. Waiting didn't do me any good. But this song is about a person who has a small opinion of themself. It's a sad song, and more of an exaggeration of real feelings, like when feelings have nowhere to go so they become too big. People who feel things on a large scale burn out quickly, like the difference between a bottle rocket and sparklers. Sadly, my life wasn't fireworks this year. Take that however you want, but the year isn't over.
Speaking of those tender, middle-school years, my son is getting awfully close. When he started school, he was bullied by all the boys. He was greatly looking forward to school starting, and it is a private, Christian school with not many kids. People pay to send their kids there (my son got a scholarship). After a few days of hearing his stories, I was furious. I sent an email to the school's office, principal, and my son's teacher detailing the things done and said to him. The principal responded in the best way possible, stating, "If I have to throw three boys out of school to fix this, I will." He talked with the ringleader's father, who was more upset than me. That boy apologized the next day, and even made sure other boys followed his example by treating my son better. I was ready to pull my son out of school, but God stepped in unexpectedly. I know what it's like to be the new kid, to be out of your element. I had worse things done to me than my son has, but who wants the life I had? If it's in my power to do something, I will. It's my job. The devil never rests. I may not be around forever, but I'm here now. It's a similar situation to when my family moved to a new place over Christmas break when I was his age. The curriculum is more challenging, and he was behind in some subjects, which generated stress. (His teacher said he was doing the best of all those who transferred from public-school that she had seen. About a 3.0 overall. Teacher said he's doing well, all things considered.) I understood his challenges, but, unfortunately, the solution is to work hard and see incremental progress each day. Breezing through everything won't work now. I feel his pain. God has a reason for everything. That doesn't make it easy to watch. Unfortunately, here we are again discussing people who call themselves God's children acting like assholes. The day I sent my letter, someone connected to the ringleader boy even made a veiled threat against my son to his grandfather (who is thousands of miles away). People don't understand I'm not afraid of anyone or anything. I've been through hell a thousand ways. I have nothing to lose. I have two tasks: follow God, and rear a child. What are the odds I let him finish the year at that school? Should I let him continue, he will probably take a dim view of Christianity. Those who have been hurt by church people understand what I'm saying.
Back to the music. Marie Fredriksson, the singer, who started out in punk rock, apparently was diagnosed with brain cancer in 2002 and fought valiantly for 17 years, before succumbing in 2019. She was 61. Cancer sucks.
Which reminds me. If you look at cancer deaths, the actual cause is normally not even cancer-relate, but fatigue due to radiation/chemo. Radiation causes organ failure. Death is the last enemy and must be fought. If you're fighting cancer and getting radiation or chemo, you're hastening your death. For what it's worth. There are protocols that work which don't involve what the sickcare system prescribes. Anti-parasite protocols are known to cure cancer. There are others too. Do your homework. Don't let people who don't even know your name without a clipboard in their hands decide your fate. Your body fights cancer every day. Nourish it, cleanse it, give it a chance. Don't poison yourself. Didn't figure I would end up having another geriatric diatribe, but here we are. Conniption fit #5,892 for this blog. Better wrap this up.
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Oktoberfest starts this weekend. I think I will have a dirndl, thank you very much. It is my patriotic duty as the owner of a hard-to-pronounce, of-German-orgin name. I should change it to Schmetterling. Joshua Schmetterling.
Thank you for reading. And God bless.
Christian blog: a-better-hope.blogspot.com
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