A Million Miles Away (The Plimsouls)
A Million Miles Away captures the plaintive longing and destitution of separation. Maybe you've been there. I think we all have. But there's more going on.
This song was featured on the classic film Valley Girl (1983), which helped make the band popular. A lot changed since 1982, when this song was released. Back then, you couldn't text your love interest. You could call them, but they weren't home. People didn't just hang around at home. You'd have to leave a message, or it would just ring out. It would be like trying to reach me on my personal phone while I'm working. Good luck, everybody (nobody).
The song details a forever loss, not a temporary separation. Peter Case, songwriter, said it was written after a cherished affair ended. It portrays feeling lost, distant, alone, removed, bored, and maybe a little crazy. There is some hyperbole (like bro, you can't be a million miles away), but overall, the mood is somber and understated. That's because the song is primarily about dissociation. You can, after all, be a million miles away when you're in the same room as someone. But it's clear the person he's apart from is not there. We see a glimpse of her in a photograph. And maybe at the end.
We also see a billboard for Flashdance, featuring Jennifer Beals, who looks a lot like the lost love interest in the video. And when the bus pulls up, the side says, "We're everywhere at once." Everywhere At Once is another Plimsouls song.
Feeling lost and distant. I've been there. Once ties are severed, you drift until you find your rudders again. Some immediately begin chasing another person, like the old guy (probably younger than me) in the video. The healthy thing is waiting until you feel like yourself again. Do people do that anymore? In 1982, it was easier. What did I do in the past after heartbreak? I recall writing, going for long walks by myself, smoking, journaling. Driving aimlessly. Cranking music. Feeling what had to be felt. Letting go. Even moved to Ohio, completely changing the trajectory of my life, as I dropped out of college. I was on an academic scholarship. The same person who was the impetus for moving away when I was a teenager caused me to move again this year. Slow learner. Moving is a high-level trauma response. Double thumbs up. Don't worry; I've got this trauma thing covered. Wanna know about psychological, physical, emotional, or sexual trauma? I got you covered. Ahem. Moving on.
Notice he says HE is a million miles away. A million miles away from what, or whom? He doesn't say SHE is a million miles away, or that HE is a million miles away from HER. He says he "should have got loaded," referencing drug use, a self-medicative response to disappointment. Instead, he dissociates. He says he is "at the wrong end of your looking glass," possibly a reference to Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There. For the uninitiated, Lewis Carroll was a pedophile whose techniques for inducing mind control in young girls especially has been used extensively. And how do we get someone to submit to mind control? There are numerous ways, but the most popular is trauma, and then offering solace through dissociation, which is when you reprogram the subject. Basically, you remove them from the driver's seat to rewrite their code. It's amazing how many songs are about dissociation after trauma. Also amazing how your body can show up, but the rest of you is somewhere else. Pretty sure I've been dissociated most of my life.
Another clue is when the opening guitar riffs bang out (oh, how we love those guitars), and we follow the man in the plaid shirt and see a woman leaning against a wall, amusedly listening to a bombed-out man in sunglasses. Notice she's wearing the masonic checkerboard, while leaning against a big painting of a red heart. Could it be the same girl at the end of the video who takes a shot of liquid courage to talk to the man? In that scene, we see him disappear and he's gone, a million miles away. A shot before that shows someone wearing rabbit ears, it looks like, like the rabbit in Lewis Carroll's stories, who encouraged young Alice to dissociate. No, the girl at the end resembles the one in the photograph he looks at before splitting (no doubt a cool videographic technique at the time the video was produced). Splitting is what happens during trauma when the mind dissociates. They didn't just tell us what the song was about; they showed us.
The overriding feeling I get when I listen to this song now — and I loved it for years — is that, while the song remains the same, I changed. Something flared out. There were whispers of hope even not long ago, but they finally succumbed to the inevitable. I don't chase. I don't seek. I am done. There was an inner sigh of relief, a stepping back, a moving on, and finally, resignation. I thought someday I would have my person, that it was just a matter of time or a change of circumstance. It felt like the decision was made long ago, that it had nothing to do with me. It's like asking the mountains to change.
Since this blog chronicled my journey after divorce and now that there is a resolution, does that mean I am done writing? Clearly not. I like writing about songs. (And I'm almost finished with my promised long-winded post.) It's an outlet for my God-given talent. My tired heart may not have long anyway. The march of time and worn-out parts decide what's for us. It's not the happy ending I would have written for myself, but there is relief in knowing. The hows and whys are all here. My post, The Naked and Famous - Young Blood, explains in depth how I got here. I think you have to see yourself as you are, not how you want to be seen. I am a loving, creative, and hopeful soul, but there are patterns which exist since childhood that ensure I keep choosing the wrong people. Since I can't change the patterns that lead to abandonment and loss put in me by those closest (my mother, in this case), I decided to stop seeking. Stop running the program that's not working. I miss the person I was. I was so hopeful, so loving, so thrilled for a future I couldn't quite reach. There was a death over the last year, but there was no funeral. No one but me saw it. Well, and whoever read these posts. Probably bots from Thailand — or a million miles away.
***
If you haven't asked Jesus into your heart, wouldn't you like to? You can say a simple prayer like this: "Lord Jesus, if I've never asked you into my heart before, please come into my heart now and save me from all my sins." If you mean it, He will, and you just started your own adventure with God.
Thank you for reading. And God bless.
Comments
Post a Comment