I had the rare privilege, last weekend, of being in the presence of creative genius. Take it from me: we need have no fear about the future of culture in North America. Our young artists are hard at work.
Some do their work in the most unlikely places, even in the washroom of the London (Ontario) Public Library, main branch.
I must be very light on my feet. Or maybe a creative (or chemical) buzz kept two young gentlemen of sixteen or seventeen, ensconced in side-by-side toilet stalls, from hearing me as I entered the facility. As I stared at the wall above the urinal for a few moments, I heard the two young men as they 'wrote' a song together.
I do love a great melody. Add some interesting harmonies and a good beat and I'm in sensory heaven. Toss in some great lyrics to make me think and I'm positively ecstatic.
Alas, although I am sure the musical parts of the song were just as good as the lyrics, the latter is all I was privileged to hear. I won't keep you in suspense for a moment longer. Here are the lyrics I heard:
You call yourselves mothers,
You stupid bitches,
But you don't deserve the title
or none of its riches.
It must be pretty clear from these lyrical gems that the young men were not very happy with their mothers. I wonder if their mothers are very happy with them.
Inspired as I was by the experience, I too almost wrote a song before I left the washroom. Title: "Excrement from both ends."
I wonder how many times the mothers of these two geniuses have cried themselves to sleep. I wonder how hard they have worked, trying to keep their young prodigies fed and clothed. I wonder what happens to turn some teenagers into such shits.
I wonder.
You know what is going to happen, don't you? These two miscreants are going to be perceived, like Eminem and other modern musical trailblazers, as poets extraordinaire, credited with 'telling it like it is,' and sharing their anguish with the world.
Is there possibly some cosmic justice out there somewhere? Here is what should really happen: the mothers should collaborate on a book. Let's call it "Surviving The Raising of Ungrateful Little A**holes." It would sell millions of copies. The mothers would get rich and live the high life. They have very likely already earned everything they would get.
The sons? What else... they would be working at the London Public Library, cleaning toilets.
Poetic justice. Full circle.
Yep, sounds good to me.
Maybe they don't have Mothers..abandoned physically perhaps? or "abandoned" emotionally? something nasty has invaded the mother-son relationship in the case of the washroom songwriters. I would agree that they are sad examples of what could potentially be a lifelong bond of trust and strength.
ReplyDeleteI can think of at least one young man I know who would give anything to have his Mother back in his life. When she died - part of him left also. Please don't give up on the possibilities that can and do exist between Mothers and Sons. Write off those two toads as pathetic. Pray that some young women don't fall for their disgusting lack of reverence. Or conversely, pray that some young women might have the ability to teach them something about the love that a Mother is capable of providing. If you don't believe in prayer, then trust that someone who does will send up some pleas for change.
Thank you. Nice sentiments, elegantly expressed. I get cynical sometimes at all the Dreck around me. A bit of positive input is always welcome.
ReplyDeleteThankyou for your positive feedback on my "elegant" comments. I appreciate your point of view. As a writer, it is always helpful to me when the opportunity to be read and critiqued comes along. We all need encouragement, and I would suggest that you continue to blog along in your own, distinctive style of workmanship. You have no idea how positive this exercise has been for me.
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