Hey, girl, stop what you’re doin’!
Hey, girl, you’ll drive me to ruin.
I don’t know what it is that I like about you,
But I like it a lot.
Won’t let me hold you,
Let me feel your lovin’ charms.
Its always the same,
I’m having a nervous breakdown,
Drive me insane!
-Led Zeppelin, “Communication Breakdown”
(from their 1969 debut album, Led Zeppelin)
Webster defines the word “communication” as this…
1. an act or instance of transmitting
2b. a verbal or written message
3a. a process by which information is exchanged between individuals through a common system of symbols, signs, or behavior
3b. personal rapport
5a. a technique for expressing ideas effectively (as in speech)
5b: the technology of the transmission of information (as by print or telecommunication)
But what do you do when “communication” breaks down? What happens when the act of transmitting isn’t received? Or when personal rapport is thrown out the window? Or when you can’t express your ideas as effectively as you would like?
Just because I’m losing
Doesn’t mean I’m lost
Doesn’t mean I’ll stop
Doesn’t mean I would cross
Just because I’m hurting
Doesn’t mean I’m hurt
Doesn’t mean I didn’t get
What I deserved
No better and no worse
I just got lost
Every river that I tried to cross
Every door I ever tried was locked
Ohhh, and I’m…
Just waiting ’til the shine wears off
(from their latest album, Viva La Vida)
So where do you go from there? According to most parenting journals and magazines, we begin to communicate in early infancy. We cry when we’re hungry. We gurgle and coo when content. We then proceed to learn the spoken language and are able to communicate our feelings verbally. From there on out, it’s up to us to learn to communicate what it is that is making us happy or sad or angry or dissatisfied. And we DO do that. From the age of 2 through our entire lives. Talking and yapping on about what we do or don’t like. Why we would do things better than this or that. We talk and twitter and blatter on, never once stopping to wonder…what if no one gave a shit? What if, at some point, it all became one jumbled mess and everything anyone ever said just became worthless or uninteresting or preposterous.
Empty spaces – what are we living for
Abandoned places – I guess we know the score
On and on, does anybody know what we are looking for…
Another hero, another mindless crime
Behind the curtain, in the pantomime
Hold the line, does anybody want to take it anymore
The show must go on,
The show must go on
Inside my heart is breaking
My make-up may be flaking
But my smile still stays on.
-Queen, “The Show Must Go On”
(from their 1991 album, “Innuendo”)
What do you do when you are tired of talking? At what point does it wear itself out? When is the call to action? I mean, I’ve been talking now for going on 38 years…so when does it finally burn itself out and I realize at some point I need to make a move? I can only talk so much. I can only write so much. And often it doesn’t seem to matter how much I do of either, no one is listening anyway. I’m too busy. You are too busy. My wife is too busy. EVERYONE is too busy.
So I’ve had enough of the communication breakdown. I’ve had enough of the verbal sparring. I’ve had enough of the same boring back-and-forth banter. I want something new. I want something fresh. I want to be able to open my eyes and hear nothing and be okay with it. I’ve worn out on all of the same shit, different day, different month, different year.
This is my last post for a while. 465 posts in under a year and I got things to do that are more important than me sitting at this computer “writing” about what I think. Seriously…nobody really cares anyway. We’re all just doing the same thing we’ve been doing for the past (enter your age here). I enjoy writing, but I’m thinking it has worn itself out a little. The shine has worn off…as they say.
I originally got into this with the idea of being closer to my family which resides about 2.5 hours away from me. I guess it has kind of done that, but in the process maybe I’ve alienated my family that is right here under this roof. Communication breakdown.
I continued to write because I thought maybe it would get more exciting if I felt successful at it and more people might find me to be interesting and funny and snarky (my favorite word!). I guess I have kind of done that, but in the process I’ve alienated my own friends who live right here in this town who I could have been spending more time with. Communication breakdown.
I continued writing and writing, thinking it would bring me some satisfaction of some kind. I haven’t been able to find peace within myself or with the one who should love me most. I wrote a bunch of crap that means absolutely nothing when I should have been doing something to make our relationship better. Communication breakdown.
I’m thinking I have work to do. So this is my announcement that I’m not leaving for good…but I’m cutting way back. I’ve got life to deal with and love to mend and for some reason I’m having a hard time finding the place where it all comes together. I guess I’m not transmitting well enough. So I need to fix that somehow. Everything sounds muffled and confused and I need to clear it up.
I am not calling it quits…just calling it a time to re-organize and re-energize. I’m making a call for action.
And somehow I gotta get all the pieces back together…and transmit with a clear and open mind.
I wish I was a neutron bomb, for once I could go off
I wish I was a sacrifice but somehow still lived on
I wish I was a sentimental ornament you hung on
The Christmas tree, I wish I was the star that went on top
I wish I was the evidence, I wish I was the grounds
For 50 million hands upraised and open toward the sky
I wish I was a sailor with someone who waited for me
I wish I was as fortunate, as fortunate as me
I wish I was a messenger and all the news was good
I wish I was the full moon shining off a Camaro’s hood
I wish I was an alien at home behind the sun
I wish I was the souvenir you kept your house key on
I wish I was the pedal brake that you depended on
I wish I was the verb ‘to trust’ and never let you down
I wish I was a radio song, the one that you turned up
-Pearl Jam, “Wishlist”
(from their 1998 album, “Yield)