Thursday, February 23, 2006

Seventh

Hair [1979]

You see, what I thought would take away was this: "I got life, mother. I got laughs, sister. I got freedom, brother. I got good times, man. I got crazy ways, daughter. I got million-dollar charm, cousin. I got headaches and toothaches. And bad times too. Like you." Because that's how I feel. I generally feel I got life. Life, life, life, life, life! But it didn't. Maybe because this holds more dread, more terror, more futility, and is more real to me than the tens of thousands who died in Vietnam—or the millions that died in WWII, for that matter. Or maybe it is because I couldn't get past the fact that this is a big-budget Hollywood incarnation all the way, made a decade after the summer of love. Choreographed, trimmed, snipped, shined and brushed, with only an inkling of wildness left intact. One of the few things in it that tug at you are the lyrics. I was stoppedm, cold, by this: "How can people be so heartless? How can people be so cruel? Easy to be hard. Easy to be cold. How can people have no feelings? How can they ignore their friends? Easy to be proud. Easy to say no. And especially people, who care about strangers. Who care about evil, and social injustice. Do you only care about the bleeding crowd? How about a needing friend? I need a friend. How can people be so heartless. You know I'm hung up on you. Easy to give in. Easy to help out." There is a warning in there. For those that keep yapping about how they want to save the World, but can't find the way. Not seeing what is right in front of you. Hearing nothing. Lacking all humility. Gratitute. Humbleness. A friend said the other day that it was sad to see that I had this urge, this need, to live a fuller, richer life, and couldn't seem to find a way to do that. She is right. It is sad.